Living Things
by ohorpheuss
Summary: After the battle of St. Vladimir's a rescue mission is set in place, during which Rose Hathaway loses her life in order to save the man she loves. Consumed by guilt, Dimitri Belikov finds that the truth is worse than he thought and leaves the Academy in order to keep the promise they made for each other.
1. Chapter 1

Everything around me was in its right place. No shoes on the floor. No clothes hanging on the chairs around the small table. The single bed was made. The bookshelf was clean, not a speck of dust to be found on its dark wood surface, the books within it sorted by size – the smallest to the biggest.

 _One of these things is not like the others._ I was standing up, looking lost, like I didn't belong here. Sitting on the bed or pulling out a chair felt wrong.

Everything was in its right place.

I couldn't stay here. Ironically, this was my own room. Everything inside it belonged to me. I had organized it in an attempt to pass the time as I waited, but it hadn't helped. It didn't make the time pass any faster, every second had felt like forever. I had nowhere to go, though. Everywhere there were people, and I couldn't stand people, not now. So I sat down on the floor, trying to make myself as small as possible to stop spoiling the perfection around me. It wasn't that hard, despite my height. I was _feeling_ small, insignificant.

Hugging my knees and bringing them as close to my chest as possible, I closed my eyes. I tried to detach myself from any emotion even though the turmoil inside me was demanding attention. A little voice inside my head, a voice that had stopped haunting me a very long time ago, hissed out a laugh. _You have to feel it_ , said the voice, _you owe her this much. It was your fault, after all. It should have been you_.

I felt a strange urge to laugh, not in amusement. The voice was right, of course. It always has been, ever since the first time I heard it, but I had stopped listening to it and eventually, it became silent. I remembered the day I had realized it was gone. It was the day I had accepted someone in my life, someone I shouldn't have let in but appeared out of thin air with so much beauty and so much love that I couldn't help myself. I had felt forgiven. But now that someone was gone.

 _You can't even bring yourself to say her name. Is that how you keep your promises? She deserved better._

She did.

"Rose", I said in a small voice, breaking the eerie silence without opening my eyes. Something charged through the air around me. She had that power. Even when she wasn't around, saying her name was enough to evoke an electric current, something primal and essentially her. Before I met her, my mind was as neat as the room around me. I didn't allow myself any slips, not at work, not at my personal life. I wasn't always like this. The control and the order were things I had had to fight for. This wasn't the first time something terrible had happened to me, but it was so much worse than anything I had experienced before that I couldn't have prepared myself for it, not even in a million years.

I opened my eyes.

There was a rip in the wallpaper in the wall I was facing, just above the bed. Had it always been there? I had never noticed it before. It was almost like saying Rose's name aloud ripped off part of the room, making it look inhabited. I got up.

"Rose", I said again, louder, throwing the chairs away from the table.

"Rose", I took the clothes off of the closet and threw them on the floor as well, followed by the shoes.

"Rose", I slid my hands through the bookshelf, dropping the worn-out books to the floor.

"Rose", I grabbed the ripped wallpaper and pulled it to me, widening the gap and tearing it apart, leaving a fresh wound in the wall.

"Rose", I collapsed on the bed, kicking the sheets and blankets.

I gave away to my feelings without a conscient effort to do so. I couldn't breathe but I couldn't cry either. It was like someone was sitting on my chest. I couldn't even move.

Yesterday, the woman I loved died.

* * *

 _It was really dark in the cave; none of the Moroi fire users was with us. The place was compromised and the roof had already collapsed once, barely missing our group. We were trapped and I was fighting for my life as fiercely as I could in the limited space. I couldn't drop my guard, the enemies kept charging at me and my allies. We were outnumbered. Even though I would never be as strong or as fast as the Strigoi I was fighting against, my skill was proving to be enough for now. I was alive._

 _This battle was the result of another one that had happened just the day before. St. Vladimir's, the school I worked for as a Guardian, was attacked by a pack of Strigoi. Many had died and some were brought to the cave as means for the Strigoi to feed after they fled. We wouldn't have been able to find them and lead this rescue mission without Rose and her ability to talk to the dead. She had found out where the prisoners were and the guardians had volunteered to bring them back._

 _Rose._

 _My heart skipped a beat when I saw her coming in. I held my ground, not allowing myself to be distracted. I had to live so I could help her. Not that she needed much help, though. She brought her enemies down, doing it well and doing it fast because she was just that good._

 _The Strigoi numbers kept reducing as we kept staking them and conquering territory until there were only two of them and Guardian Alberta Petrov yelled at us to start retreating. I staked one of the remnants and started cornering the other, alongside with Alberta and two other guardians. We took him down quickly and followed our group._

 _After crawling out of the gap in the wall that kept us from the rest of the cave, I found her eyes in the dark. I was relieved to see her alive and well and could see that she felt the same way about me. We made our way to the exit, fighting any Strigoi that crossed our paths. I refused to collapse from exhaustion and kept going, waiting for my orders._

 _I could see Rose when we were closer to the exit. The sunlight was bathing her, and I knew that she was safe. I was almost there… and then everything changed when we were caught by surprise. Three Strigoi charged at us out of nowhere. One of them grabbed me and I knew I was lost, despite the fact that I was still trying to get free. But in that moment a fast shadow darted to me and bumped into the Strigoi's chest, taking him down and giving me room to escape. My vision was blurred by the blood dripping from a wound in my forehead and I couldn't see anything clearly. I got up and felt a hand pulling me to the safety of the sun when five other Strigoi appeared. Only then I realized that Rose wasn't out there anymore. I turned, looking for her, realizing too late the identity of my savior._

 _My blood froze in my veins at the sight of a blond Strigoi, the same one that had charged to me before, sinking his fangs into the same neck I had caressed and kissed just yesterday. I was seeing red and screaming Rose's name. I charged, but two sets of arms stopped me._

" _What are you doing, Dimitri? More are coming" said Stan Alto, another Guardian from school. I identified Alberta helping Stan to keep me in place as I thrashed against them. I tried to break free. Rose was there, she needed me. I had promised to keep her safe. Rose was dying and they had to let me go._

 _Janine Hathaway, Rose's mom, approached me then. Tears were streaming down her face as she screamed at me "We have to go"._

" _Can't you see? She's in there! Rose's in there!" I screamed back struggling. It spoke legions about my exhaustion that I wasn't able to break away from their grip. Janine joined forces with them._

" _Rose's dead! The sun is coming down in fifteen minutes and they're waiting for us. They will run after us and we have to get to the wards" she slapped me hard then and locked her gaze on mine. "My daughter saved your life, Dimitri, and I won't let you waste it now."_

 _The Strigoi were gathered at the front of the cave, eyeing us expectantly. I knew that with their speed we needed every second we could get, and I knew Janine was right, but I didn't want to leave. Going back to the caves would mean my death, and even though I couldn't care less about myself, I was too late. There was no saving Rose. There was only dying and wasting her sacrifice. She wouldn't want it. If I was in her place, as it should have been, I would want her to run as fast as she could, harder than ever._

" _Dimitri, come!" Janine screamed one last time as I turned away and ran with the others._

* * *

I knew the sun would rise soon. Another group of guardians would go back to the caves to bring back the bodies of the fallen. I would go with them. When dealing with Strigoi, I needed to see the body. Without it, there was no disclosure. I wasn't numb; it was like I was on hold. I didn't want to consider the options – even though I had no hope of finding her alive – because there were things worse than death. I had to bring her back. I had to hold her one last time before saying goodbye for good.

That's why I forced myself to hold back the feelings that were swirling on my chest. Rose needed me one last time. I had to be there for her. It gave me a goal. I had to get up. Get dressed. Go downstairs, to the meeting that was about to start. Put an emotionless façade, look more like a guardian and less like the broken man I was in this moment. Face her mother, Alberta, and the others, knowing that I was the one to blame. No one but Rose could make me be brave in this moment, but for her, I would do anything, be anything. I owed her that much.

* * *

 _ **A.N.:** Hey there, people! This is my first fanfic. I started reading fanfiction because of Vampire Academy, so I thought I needed to create my own as a way to balance things with the Universe (?). I never found any AU in which Rose turned Strigoi instead of Dimitri in the end of Shadow Kiss, and I was really curious about how it would have turned out. Where would Rose go? Would Dimitri be able to find her? Would he kill her before finding a way to restore her? So I started writing, even though English is not my first language, so I'm probably making a lot of mistakes. Please, don't overlook them! Tell me everything I did wrong so I can get better :) This fanfic is dedicated to Gigi256 and objectiveheartmuscle, my favorite DPOV writers of all times. Thanks for your time and please, review._


	2. Chapter 2

I got out of my room, heading for the meeting robotically. My mind wandered back to yesterday without my permission and it was like I could see Rose by my side, walking with fire in her eyes, ready to take down her enemies or just scream at everyone, and all of a sudden it was hard to breathe again. _Get a grip_. As I walked through the door, everyone looked up. I could see lots of bruises and all sorts of injuries, and even though we couldn't afford to falter yet, sadness and grief filled the room.

I felt Janine's eyes on me but couldn't make myself look back at her. Alberta called for attention. She had seemed tired and sad, but as soon as she started speaking, the detached mask of a guardian fell into place.

"We lost many people yesterday," she said "and even though the goal was accomplished and we were able to bring back every prisoner that was still alive, this is not the time for celebration. We have a debt to those who fought with us and perished in those caves. We have to go back for them." There was a long pause of absolute silence.

"Five guardians and…" she hesitated, her face contorting with sorrow for the briefest moment "one novice were lost in battle. It's probable that the Strigoi are already gone, but we can't take any chances. I'm taking twenty volunteers with me and we are leaving right after the matter is settled, and you can rest after we come back. Please, raise your hands if you want to be part of the group."

My hand shot up immediately, as did Janine's. Alberta had to choose between volunteers since everyone wanted to help. When she said my name, our eyes met and I knew she knew I had to be there.

We left then. I could feel the eyes of the students and the staff following us as we made our way to the gates. I saw the reflex of her blond hair from the corner of my eye just a second before she started speaking directly to me.

"Guardian Belikov, you have to take me with you," said Lissa, pleading. Every guardian in our group stopped to hear what she had to say. "You know I can help, I can bring her back. I did it once and I know I can do it again. Please, I have to save her. I have to save Rose."

Her expression was half crazed, and she was crying. I didn't know if it had anything to do with Spirit's darkness or if it was simply grief. I didn't know what to say. For a moment, I entertained the thought of bringing Princess Vasilisa with us, even though I knew I shouldn't. Could she really bring Rose back from the dead? My treacherous mind lit up at the thought.

"The bond is gone" Lissa declared, breaking my trance, her eyes full of tears "I didn't know I could feel it until it disappeared. She needs me, Dimitri. Please."

It wasn't until I heard those words that I realized something. I was denying to myself that a small part of me was hoping that, against every odd, Rose had overcome her enemies or was forgotten by them. In fantasies trapped on the back of my mind, she would be hurt, badly, but still alive. I hadn't acknowledged that because I knew I couldn't afford hope. It would be the death of me. And I was right, because if the bond was gone, so was Rose.

"When?" I asked, my voice hoarse, either from lack of use or despair, I couldn't know. I didn't have to elaborate my question. Lissa understood. "Yesterday," she said, "Right before the survivors came back to the school."

I felt like my legs couldn't support my weight anymore. I forced myself to keep going though I knew that saying the next words would be like swallowing acid. "It's too late, Princess" my eyes burned and my chest ached "She's been dead for too long."

"I have to try!" Lissa was almost screaming at that point. "Don't you love her? Don't you want her back?"

Alberta stepped up then, taking Lissa by the arm and shaking her gently "We can't take you with us, Princess. It's too dangerous. There might be Strigoi in the caves. Rose would want you to be safe. She would want you to stay here."

Christian seemed to appear out of thin air then, hugging the Princess and murmuring something in her ears. He must have been by her side all along, but I was too distracted to notice. She didn't seem to be listening. Her eyes were on me, pleading. I couldn't say a word even if I tried. I couldn't help anyone; my own grief was too strong.

Janine was by my side then "We need to get to the caves as soon as possible, Princess" she said, her eyes full of unshed tears, her voice breaking "Only then we can learn whatever happened to Rose and the others. You have to let us go, but you can wait by the gates for our return if you want."

A few seconds later, Lissa nodded. We began to walk again and she was with us, Christian by her side. When the group reached the gates, I saw her seating down on the grass to wait for our return. Her eyes locked with mine, and I simply nodded.

The walk took forever, but we finally reached the caves. The smell of decay was overwhelming, and I fought the nauseous feeling that hit me. Bodies filled the ground and an Alchemist, the same one that helped up cleaning the bodies after the first battle, reached for the first Strigoi, dripping the chemicals that would dissolve the creature's body, as we started looking for familiar faces.

The first we found was Yuri's, but soon enough others started to appear. Still, none of those people were the one I needed to see, so I kept looking until there were no more bodies other than the ones laid on stretchers we had to carry back to the Academy. Janine seemed to come to the same conclusion I had, and I was almost surprised when she collapsed on her knees and started crying. She was nothing like the fierce guardian I knew in that moment. She was… like a mom that had lost her only child. Alberta went to her, trying to get her to calm down, but barely holding her own tears.

I was shaking. I could hear an odd cry, much like the one of a hurt animal, and it took me some time to figure that it was coming from me. My brain was going through the same piece of logic again and again. Rose was dead but her body wasn't here. She had died right after we left the cave, so there was no way they would have dragged her with them because Strigoi didn't carry corpses around. There was only one option.

She wasn't dead. It was worse, much worse than that.

She was turned.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

Hey people

I really hope I am doing at least a decent job heheh This chapter was smaller than the last because they were supposed to be the same. Let me know what you think about my story and if you feel like I should continue writing it. Also, I'm a little lost (newbie) so if anyone wishes to be my beta, I would be really grateful. Thank you for your time.

Gaya x


	3. Chapter 3

The mind has strange ways to deal with pain.

I couldn't remember the walk back even if I tried. I was helping carry a stretcher, but I couldn't tell whose body was laid in it. My own grief was bottled up for me to deal with it later. There was a mix between numbness and awareness that made everything seem surreal: like I was seeing my actions through someone else's eyes, having no control over my own body or the scene around me.

There were plenty of people by the gates when we arrived. When I found the one I was looking for, I felt grateful for the state of suspension I was in. Lissa's face was so full of hope it was painful to watch as she counted the stretchers and came to the realization that there were people missing. My heart broke once again when she assessed the faces of the fallen and didn't find her best friend. I was watching her in my peripheral vision to avoid eye contact, but she wouldn't have it. Lissa walked in my direction and spoke, her voice demanding and furious.

"Why didn't you bring Rose back?" she asked.

 _Just breathe, Dimitri._ I didn't stop walking and the Princess fell into step with me."Because she wasn't there" I answered, my voice sounding tired and hollow even for my ears. I even forgot to address her formally, by her title.

"What do mean, she wasn't there? Could she…" she hesitated, "… could she be alive? Could she have walked out of the caves? Because if she did, Dimitri, she is hurt and alone in the forest! We have to find her!"

I wished for the earth to split and swallow me. No such luck, though. "I am sorry, Princess, but if she was alive you'd still have the bond." She assessed my expression and I watched as she came to the same conclusion I had. Desperately, defying logic, she tried to argue like merely saying the words was enough to make them come true "They could have taken her with them, you know, like they did with the others in the first attack. For later, I mean" I could see her nails biting her upper arms, drawing some blood.

I had to kill her hope. It was unfair, it was cruel, but it was necessary. Gently, with my free hand, I pried her fingers away from her arms to stop her from hurting herself. Then, I looked around at the faces of my colleagues, who were watching us carefully, and found the green eyes of Janine Hathaway staring back at me. She just nodded. I couldn't read her expression but understood the message.

"She died before they had the opportunity to flee, Princess" _Breathe. In, out. Breathe._ "They wouldn't have carried her…" I hesitated, because thinking of Rose as a lifeless body was as painful as it was inconceivable "… corpse with them. Molly, a Moroi student we couldn't save, wasn't there either, even though she was dead when we found the caves. I am sorry, Lissa."

I was sure my expression mirrored the Princess'. The pain in her face was obvious, as well as anger and regret. She just stopped walking, giving in to the grief. Christian was by her side again and seeing them together made me feel more alone than ever.

* * *

Once we were back inside I was ordered to take a break until the meeting for the funeral's security arrangements. I didn't know what to do with myself and anxiety crept up. My heart and mind were racing and I was sweating. I had never been this desperate. Going to my room seemed wrong. The place was a chaotic mess. So was I. I knew that when I reached my destination I would have to deal with whatever was brooding inside me.

Unaware of my surroundings, I started wandering aimlessly through the school fields and it was only when I stopped in front of the little cabin in the woods that I understood what I needed. I walked through the door, stopping by the fireplace to light up a match and start a fire, just like I had the last time I was here. The warmth of the flames seemed wrong. Back in the day we made love for the first time, I was sure that the heat of her skin alone was enough to keep me warm for the rest of my life, and that the look in her eyes when I told her I loved her was enough to keep me going through anything.

Except that it wasn't. Not even the feeling of her in my arms could get me through losing her. I would always cherish those memories but they were nothing more than that. I needed to remember that Rose Hathaway had lived and loved me, even though she was a much better person than me. I was just a fucked up nobody, and yet she was able to see through my pretenses and find beauty. She was chaos in its purest form, but she felt like home.

I ran my hands through my hair, pulling it slightly. Her blood was on my hands. Every excuse I had made for myself, every argument we had about not being able to be together, seemed dim and stupid now, but part of it felt like a self-fulfilled prophecy. I told her I couldn't love her because it would get us both – and Lissa – killed. In the end, her love for me was her doom, and my love for her would surely be mine.

For a moment, it was like I was back at Victor Dashkov's van, going to a shopping trip to Missoula. Rose was by my side, excited to be out on the field for the very first time, wearing her beautiful hair up just like I had told her. I had felt energized just by being close to her, even if I was still denying my feelings, masking them as a mentor's pride. Lying to myself, pretending in front of others, I had made my very first promise. It was silent, just between the two of us, but it was huge nonetheless.

I knew what I had to do; I could mourn her later, when I knew that she was in peace, where she wanted to be. But could I hunt down the woman I loved? Could I drive a stake through her heart, the same heart that I once felt beating against mine?

I had to try. She would have done it if she was in my place. There would be hell to pay for if I came back, though. If people back at the Court heard about my vigilante mission, I would lose my position as Lissa's sanctioned Guardian. A desk job would be the only thing waiting for me when I came back.

I would have to leave Lissa alone, too, but as I once told Rose, I was done pretending that any Moroi's life could be more important to me than hers, even if it was Lissa's. It was worth it. I was sure even Lissa would understand. Not that I would tell her anything.

I sat down on the little bed, my eyes hurting from looking at the fire too long. The bedsheets were organized, just like we had left them. It seemed surreal to think that only two days ago I was truly happy for the first time in my life. I should have learned that nothing was permanent a long time ago, when Ivan passed and left me aching, hearing voices and hating myself. I shouldn't have assumed that Rose would be here forever, waiting for me to get my shit together. I should have fought for her.

 _Lovely, you sound like a broken record_.

* * *

The funeral was the second in less than a year. Mason's had been considerably smaller than this one, but there was only one person to mourn. Every Guardian and every Moroi that had died in the attack and in the rescue mission were being honored. There were pictures of Rose and Molly and their names were said by the priest as he paid them respect, counting them among the dead. In the picture, Rose's smile was mischievous, her face confident, like when she knew that even though she messed something up, I would help her to fix it and get her out of trouble. She seemed a little younger than when we first met, but her eyes were just as bright. There were plenty of things around her photograph: flowers, trinkets, letters. She was loved. She was missed.

I found the Dragomir _chotki_ amongst those things. My eyes wandered around, looking for Lissa. I found her with Christian and Adrian by her side. She looked hollow, haunted. I wondered if beneath the long sleeves of her sweater there would be cuts. Even Christian looked shaken, and I had never seen him look this sad. Adrian looked surprisingly sober. His eyes were red and he looked like he could use some sleep. So could I.

Janine was crying uncontrollably in a corner, a guy I had never met before by her side. His eyes and hair were exactly the same shade as Rose's, and I couldn't help but wonder if he was her father. Alberta wasn't very far. She loved Rose too and considered her like a daughter, so I wasn't really surprised to see that she looked miserable. Eddie Castille, another novice and one of Rose's closest friends, looked lost, like he just didn't know what to do with himself.

I didn't have anything to put beside Rose's photograph. Nothing had seemed right. The only things I had to give her were my body and soul, and she had claimed them a long time ago. So I just stared at her smile and thought about everything I had ever wanted to say to her but never had the opportunity to. That she was the most beautiful woman I knew; not only because of her looks but also because of her passion and commitment and love. She was smart, funny, and even though her sarcasm drove me mad, it was one of the things I loved most about her. She had changed me, turning tables inside my heart. There was no song, no poem, no piece of art that would ever compare to loving her and I was okay with that. It seemed fair.

People came and went as I paid my respects to her. I lost track of the time until I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Janine's. I turned around to find her looking at me, her expression blank. "Guardian Hathaway," I greeted her.

She was looking into my eyes as if waiting for something. "I want to talk to you." She wasn't asking, but I wasn't expecting her to. I had no choice in the matter. I nodded, looking at Rose for the last time before turning away and leaving with her mother.

"I want to know if you and my daughter were involved," she demanded, "and don't lie to me, Belikov, because I'll know." Her eyes were fierce even through the obvious pain. I respected her too much to lie. And somehow denying my love for Rose seemed like a blasphemy against her memory. So I just stared back at her mother and nodded.

"We weren't together, not really," I explained, "Considering that both of us were going to be Lissa's guardians after her graduation, we knew it would be wrong to be in a relationship. There was also the matter of me being her mentor and our age difference. I tried really hard not to fall for her, but it was impossible. I loved you daughter. I still love her. She loved me too." Janine's blank expression was back as she assessed me.

"I could tell as much. She threw herself to an imminent death to save you, and you were about to do the same," her voice was detached from any emotions. "I want you to know that I don't blame you, Belikov. Rose wasn't a damsel in distress, she was a guardian, just like us. She made her choices and we have to honor them.

"I can see that you feel guilty every time you look at me, but I don't hate you. You didn't kill Rose; a Strigoi did. Be there for Lissa. Enjoy life it while it lasts. Enjoy it for Rose. I don't blame you for falling for her, either. It was impossible to know her and not to love her. Be thankful for that." She stopped walking and stared at me.

I didn't know what to do. I wasn't expecting this. How could I tell her that no matter what she said I would never forgive myself for what had happened? "Thank you, Guardian Hathaway" was all I could manage to say.

She studied my face one last time. "Call me Janine" she stated quietly, and walked away, leaving me alone.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

Next chapter, Dimitri is going hunting. I'm nervous and excited to see how it turns out.

Thanks for the views and the reviews. Join me as I say welcome to my lovely beta, **strangemind92**! Yay!

See you soon, I hope ;)

P. S.: There's a song for every chapter. This one's Machete, by Amanda Palmer.


	4. Chapter 4

Two days later, I went to see Alberta at her office. On my way there, I passed by Stan and Emil. They were discussing something I couldn't hear and nodded in my direction when they saw me. I nodded back, not bothering to stop and make small talk. I had never been the most sociable person to begin with, but lately, I'd been avoiding contact with everyone; working harder than usual and retreating to my room immediately after my shifts ended. The other guardians were leaving me alone, and not even Alberta herself had tried to talk to me yet.

Ever since the funeral, I had been preparing myself for the journey. When I first decided to leave, I realized that there were two huge holes in my plans, the first being I had no idea where Rose might be. The Court mapped every Strigoi-related incident in every country, and I could easily access that information by contacting my friends at the Guardian Council. It wouldn't be very helpful if she hadn't been spotted, though, and I knew Rose would avoid recognition at all costs. We didn't know where to find the group that attacked the school, and as Strigoi often chose to work alone, I had no guarantee that she was even with them. She could have followed her sire or gone to literally anywhere else in the world.

I knew her, though. As Strigoi, most of her personality traits would still be there, only twisted by a lack of compassion and empathy. I couldn't help but shudder, thinking that the feelings that made her so amazing were gone, and there was nothing left of her old self but memories, impressions and the things she had tried hard to control when she was still a dhampir. Back then, Rose had been dangerous to her enemies. Now? She would be unstoppable.

Working with other people and respecting authority were never part of her strengths. She knew, however, how to function in society, and it was hard for me to believe that she could stay alone for too long. Based on Animal Behavior, her best subject while she was still at school, she also knew that there was strength in numbers. Her talent at breaking rules would also come in handy, for she would always get herself out of trouble, never getting caught disobeying orders. In a few months, she could be in a position of leadership among her peers.

There were only two places in the whole world where a pack of Strigoi that big could go on unnoticed: the United States and my homeland. The vampire population in both places was big enough to camouflage their hunting. Somehow I doubted that Rose was still here, though. She didn't have a home, not really, aside from the Academy. There was nothing holding her to this country, and just like Sonya Karp had done before her, she would probably avoid contact with the ones she used to love. Staying away from us was the smartest decision.

My conclusion was a shot in the dark but it was better than nothing. I would start looking for her in Russia and let the chips fall where they may. If I didn't find her in St. Petersburg, my next best guess would be Novosibirsk. I would be close to home, but visiting my family was out of the question. I couldn't see my mother and pretend that nothing was wrong; she knew me too well, as did my sisters and grandmother. They wouldn't let me leave once I got there.

When I had my destination set, a second problem came to mind: money. I had some savings, but as most of my paycheck went home to my family, I didn't have a lot left, especially for something this costly. I had no one to go for help, though, and truth be told, I doubted I could ask something this huge even from Ivan if he was alive. The money I had would have to do. If it didn't, I would find a way to get more.

I realized, startled, that my plan was just the ones Rose used to architect: hardly thought-through, hasty and very likely to get me killed. It was like whoever was responsible for ruling people's destinies was laughing at my expense.

When I arrived at Alberta's office, I had a speech prepared. It all went down the drain, though, when I saw her. Her expression hardened immediately after my entrance and she didn't even let me greet her before speaking in a harsh tone, "I was expecting you to come here, sooner or later. If you think that I'll allow you time out for you to unravel on a vigilante mission, forget about it, Belikov."

I was at a loss for words. "That look in your face, I've seen it before," she continued, "Guardian Tanner looked exactly the same before going after Sonya Karp. I won't let another good guardian go to waste and end up doomed to a life time of desk job because of lovesick promises. That is if you even come back alive."

She paused, letting her words sink in. A few moments later, her expression softened as she looked at me. I wondered what my face was doing. I was too surprised to control my expressions. "I am sorry, Dimitri", she said, finally. "I miss her every day. I wish we could change the past, but going down this path will only bring you sorrow. Whether you fail or succeed, you will never be the same."

I was well aware of that. Killing Rose was something I had yet to come to terms with. If I felt broken now, it would be nothing compared to what I would feel if I succeeded. I could argue with myself again and again about how she was a creature of evil now and that killing her would be like setting her free, but when it came down to it, I would still be staking the most important person in my world.

Failing was inconceivable. I had failed her too much already; what poor excuse for a man would I be if I couldn't get anything right? I would rather get killed in the process.

 _God, you sound like a soap opera hero. Alberta won't fall for your act. She has seen it before._

I inhaled slowly and recomposed myself before answering. It took every ounce of my willpower to put on a straight face, but somehow, I managed.

"Alberta," I began, unsure of what to say, "I know you want to protect me from hurting. Thank you, but you can't. Because right now, I can't even explain the pain I feel. I know that hunting her will make everything much worse, but staying here and doing nothing will drain the very life out of me.

"There is a monster out there, walking around in Rose's body and acting like her. It's nothing like hunting Strigoi just for the sake of it, it's honoring her memory. She has to be remembered as the person she once was, always willing to give her life to protect others, not like a murderer. Even if you don't help me, I'll still leave, but if you do I promise that no one will think of it as more than a vacation. Tell them I needed time out to recover from the attack and to mourn my students and colleagues. No one knew about me and Rose, there won't be any questions on the matter."

I stood there then, waiting for her answer. I was tense; my jaw was locked with so much intensity that I knew it would hurt like hell later. She was assessing me but I couldn't tell how she was feeling. Damn guardian training.

"If – and that is a huge _if_ , mind you – I let you go," she argued, "don't you think the Council will be able to figure things out? You know that our numbers are low; we need everyone we can get. I can't just go on giving time out to anyone, not now. The Council would question my decision and your career wouldn't be the only one in line. You never asked for time out before, not even when your charge died. They will suspect something is wrong".

"I'm relying on my reputation for that matter," I said, "as well as yours. It won't be that hard to convince them that I finally got too tired and needed to step back a little."

"Admitting weakness will probably get you reassigned, though" she considered. "The Princess is too precious and you were chosen to guard her because of your commitment. Also, you know you are the only one Rose would trust with Lissa's life".

That was a low blow, but I was prepared for it. "If I get reassigned I'll take care of my charge just as well as I would have taken care of the Princess. She will be given the best guardians around, and I trust my colleagues to do a good job." I was trapped between a rock and a hard place. I knew Rose would want me to be Lissa's guardian, and if I came back I would do everything in my power not to get reassigned.

I waited for Alberta's decision. After what felt like forever, she finally said something. "I don't doubt that you would throw your career away and leave even if I told you no. You and Rose are too much alike, ridiculously pigheaded. She would want for you to still have a job when you came back, so here's the deal: I'll give you two months." I hadn't realized that I was holding my breath until she said those words and I exhaled in relief. "If you don't find her you still come back by the end of that time, understood? Otherwise, I won't be able to cover for you."

And just like that, I was making another promise I wasn't sure I could keep, not even for the sake of Alberta's career. "Yes, Guardian Petrov. I'll be back by the end of two months."

"And you better come back alive, Belikov," she threatened. "If you get yourself killed or turned, I'll personally kick your ass all the way to Hell."

I just nodded, feeling a wave of affection for her. She would have been a fierce mother, I was sure of that, but not having children didn't stop her from being an amazing woman. Rose had had one hell of a role model.

"You can leave two days hence after I prepare the paperwork. Use this time to contemplate your life choices. If you give up on this suicide mission, let me know."

I smiled for the first time in the last few days. It was far from a grin, but still better than a grimace. And it was honest.

"Thank you, Alberta," I said, simply, and left to my room.

* * *

I bought a ticket to St. Petersburg right after talking to Alberta. It had been expensive, leaving a hole in my already scarce funds, but I was expecting it. My bag was packed quickly after that; I didn't have much to take with me anyway, just a few clothes, some books, and CDs. Those two days had seemed to drag, but the time came and in fifteen minutes, I would be leaving behind the Academy, my charge and every pretense of order I had built around myself in the past years.

I wondered briefly if I should be feeling sorry for it. I didn't doubt for a second that Rose was worth it, and wasn't second-guessing my decision like Alberta had advised me to. I was second-guessing my entire life pre-Rose, dedicated on pursuing stability. It wasn't much of a life, not really. Control could be overrated. It was necessary, to a certain extent, but I had overdone it to the point of detaching myself of everything that mattered.

When the time came, I threw my bag over my shoulder and headed to Alberta's office one last time. She was waiting for me, the paperwork signed and ready to go.

"I'm guessing you didn't take my advice," she said, her voice tired. "Good luck though, Belikov."

We shook hands and I nodded. "Thank you, Guardian Petrov. We'll see each other soon." I couldn't know if it was true but felt the urge to reassure her somehow. She smiled at my attempt and nodded back, dismissing me.

I walked out of her office feeling an odd mix of sadness, relief, numbness, and anger. It was daytime, so no students were out of their dorms. I felt the staff staring at me though, and chose to ignore their eyes following my procession; every now and then a guardian would say goodbye and I would answer politely. I only stopped at the gates, showing the papers to the ones in charge. They let me go, no questions asked, and I didn't care enough to analyze their expressions.

Once out of the wards, my hands closed at the silver stake on my belt. I knew I had a long way to go to get to the nearest airport. _Then start walking, Belikov._

* * *

The flight was long, boring and uneventful. By the time I reached St. Petersburg, my Discman was on my lap playing David Bowie's _The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars_ , and I had one of my favorite novels on my hands. It was impossible to distract myself from the anxiety creeping up my chest, though. When the plane hit the ground, I almost ran out of it. Getting to a cheap hostel in the center of town was my priority, and once it was taken care of, I tried settling down to wait for the night to come, but realizing I was too anxious to stay in my room I got out and started walking aimlessly.

I loved St. Petersburg and knew the city like the back of my hand. I was no stranger to its night life and Moroi clubs, either. Ivan had used to come here all the time, both for business and for fun. I remembered talking about my homeland to Rose, knowing that I was sounding like an excited little boy, but she had never seemed to mind my homesickness. She would look excited to hear anything about my past like I was the most interesting thing in the world. It would make me feel like I mattered.

An aspect I hadn't considered until now popped up in my head. I wondered if she had decided to come here because of my childhood tales. Could I have impressed her enough that she would come to Russia looking for a sense of normalcy, of home? Her own childhood had been lonely. I didn't know how much impact my stories of a big, loving family had had in her.

Foolishly, I tried to imagine her almond-toned skin paler, her brown eyes red-ringed and cold, her smile ruined by fangs. I used to love to watch her running, the sunlight playing with the color of her hair, showing that there was a little red in it. Now, the sun would kill her. I wondered if she missed it.

 _You're thinking of her as she once was. Her feelings don't matter anymore. Be thankful for the sunlight as a weapon and start seeing her as an enemy or you won't stand a chance._

I let out a sigh. I still wasn't able to separate Strigoi Rose from Roza. I had to, once and for all, because I would always love Roza, and Strigoi Rose would never be her. It was like I was living in a book; my life was full of epic adventures, but I wish it could be boring. I wish we could both be humans, unaware that there were vampires around us and enjoying being in love. Reading about a hero's misfortunes was way better than living them.

And I knew there would be no happy ending for me.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

Sorry, this chapter got too big. I promise more action in the next one, and I also promise that this story won't be an exact copy of Blood Promise with Dimitri in Rose's place. She isn't in Russia for the same reasons as him, and she won't deal with being a Strigoi the same way he did. The song that inspired this chapter is Disorder, by Joy Division, which happens to be my favorite song. I have part of the lyrics tattooed ("What means to you, what means to me / and we will meet again", to be exact).

See you next chapter, I hope :D


	5. Chapter 5

Every day, every second, the world changed forever to accommodate another life. I couldn't help thinking that maybe on this very day, eighteen years back, the stars were aligned or another cosmic event of similar magnitude took place, as another line had surged on Destiny's book when Rose Hathaway was born.

My grandmother used to tell me that there was no such thing as an unimportant being. It had seemed cliché, but she would say that everyone one of us had a crucial part in shaping the Universe, even if our lives were quiet and seemingly uneventful. Back when I was a teenager, I was a skeptic of the fact that every little action of mine was important. Sure, I knew that there were people that would set things in motion, their actions triggering change and shaking the balance of things, but I could hardly believe that every inconsequential choice I made mattered that much. Thinking like that made choosing much harder, so I just resigned myself into believing that I had little effect on the shape of things to come. That was, until I met Rose.

On that day in the cabin, I remembered doodling idly through her back; creating patterns between her freckles, wondering what I would find if I tried to join the dots on her skin. Maybe it would be the answers for every mystery on Earth. Maybe I would find God's message to humanity on the curve of her shoulders. Maybe the way her hair spilled around the pillow would reveal the secret of how existence began and how it would, eventually, end. Maybe I would find out that I was just making symbols out of nothing and life didn't make any sense, and maybe I wouldn't be scared of the lack of purpose because she was with me.

Every aspect of her body told a story, and I knew I could have spent my whole life reading her. I knew I had written a few of my own lines all over her being, and it had made me happy, because I finally understood what my grandmother had told me. Almost eighteen years of choices seemed like nothing when compared to the big picture but had made Rose who she was.

She had been excited about her birthday. Thinking back on the day I had asked her about what she wanted it had been clear that she didn't expect anything from me besides being there. It was, after all, a day that would change our lives. She would no longer be a minor, and we would be one step closer to being together. I had wanted to shower her with presents and celebrate her existence. She deserved expensive, beautiful things.

She also deserved to be alive, and that was yet another thing I would never be able to afford.

I couldn't sleep, even after overexerting myself the whole night through, hunting and killing Strigoi, so I headed for a church nearby. It was the Basilica of St. Catherine, a Roman Catholic temple – the oldest one in Russia – but it didn't matter much to me that the place wasn't Orthodox. It was beautiful, full of history, located in the heart of the city, and it would be empty at this time of the day.

When I got there, I could hardly pay attention to any of the details, though, as I sat down in the back. I went there looking for peace but even with eyes wide open all I could see was her face. Churches had always been my refuge. I wished that the holy ground could keep the thoughts of her away, as it did to her physical self. I was a haunted man whom even God was refusing to help.

Soon enough, I couldn't take it anymore, so I headed back to the hostel to wait for night to come. I would undoubtedly do the same thing I did the night before: head to Moroi and human clubs around town, find Strigoi, torture them, asking for Rose, and kill them right after that.

I had staked three Strigoi on my first day in St. Petersburg. The seven _molnija_ and the _zvezda_ – a battle mark given to those of us who fought to protect the Academy, meaning that we had made so many kills there was no way of keeping track of the numbers –were reminders of my time as a guardian, and right now my title didn't matter. I didn't want to remember any of those deaths, even though I understood the importance of the _molnija_ , reminders of the lives you saved and the ones you couldn't. It was a relief to know that those who I had staked while looking for Rose wouldn't be marked permanently on my skin. She wouldn't end up as another tattoo on my neck, one that people would stare at with horror or admiration, a mark without a face and a story no one would care enough to ask about.

* * *

My body hit the ground and I felt a wave of pain shooting through my column. The Strigoi charged, not giving me time to catch my breath, but I was waiting for it. He was young, his strength and speed spoiled by his recklessness. We struggled to get an advantage over one another, until I finally found an opening when he left his right side unguarded as he attempted to hit me. It was enough for me to send him landing with his back on the floor and pinning him to the ground, driving my stake into his shoulder and asking in Russian, "Where is Rose Hathaway?"

I had been asking that same question to every Strigoi I could find over the last week. By this time, I was sure I had heard every possible death threat there was; my body was hurt in many places, and I still had no answer. The nights were a blur: go out, stay in the dark, ignore every form of interaction with people and wait for them to strike; question then kill them, and try again, wait for sunrise, treat the wounds, go to sleep. My roommates and even the hostel's owner were getting a little suspicious of my odd schedule; that and the fact that sometimes I came back beaten up and covered in blood didn't help much. I would have to find another place to stay soon or head to Novosibirsk if I didn't find any leads.

Tonight I had chosen to start my search at a Moroi club, known by the Americans as the Nightingale. I knew the place from when I had guarded Ivan and was well aware that it was too expensive for me. I had no clothes to wear that would make me fit among the rich, and seeing a male dhampir without a Moroi to guard would probably look suspicious as well. I had to remain low-key, so I just hovered around the club, out of its wards so the guardians in front of the building wouldn't notice me. I'd been doing this for a while now, almost every night.

A few minutes into my vigil, I had found the Strigoi I was now fighting in an alley, feeding from a dhampir girl in flashy clothes that was undoubtedly heading for the club and charged at him. I was pissed off and tired, but not enough to miss the knowing glint in the Strigoi's eyes as he heard Rose's name. It was gone in a second while he tried to break free from my grasp, but I wasn't having it; I stabbed him again, this time closer to the heart. "I asked you a question. Where is Rose Hathaway?" I panted. He studied me with eyes full of hate and revulsion, but I could see the pain as he struggled to get away from my stake's range. "Fuck off", he spat at me.

My patience didn't last forever and this guy was getting on my nerves. It was possible that he knew something, though, so I had to keep trying. "Where. Is. Rose. Hathaway?" I punctuated each word with a thrust of my stake in his body. He hissed in agony as the enchanted silver made contact with his skin, anywhere but his heart.

"You are too late. The shadow-kissed one is no longer here." Noticing my surprise, the Strigoi tried to change his position and attack me. His attempt to kill me left me no choice but to finish him, because I knew I couldn't keep holding him much longer.

After that, my clothes were battered and bloodied. I felt disgusting and desperately in need of a shower. I had to dispose of the body first, though, so I started contemplating ways of hiding it until the sun was up.

I stood up. He had called Rose "the shadow-kissed one". What was that supposed to mean? How did a Strigoi in the middle of St. Petersburg, Russia, know about Rose's abilities? She had lost those after the change; otherwise, Lissa wouldn't have said that their bond was gone. Strigoi couldn't visit the world of the dead because they didn't belong there. I had to admit that I didn't know much about Spirit, so I had no idea what could have happened to Rose, as her situation was unprecedented.

Maybe this was just the way she would refer to herself among her peers, but I doubted it. Even when she was still a dhampir she had never volunteered information about her bond. Of course, it was to protect Lissa and herself from unwanted attention, and now she wouldn't feel the need to shield her friend from others.

Should I consider this information? Should I just brush it off and continue my mission? I knew who I could speak with about Spirit. There was another bonded pair back in Siberia. I felt a little idiotic for never realizing it before, but Oksana must have been a Spirit user, bringing Mark back from the dead. Their bond was known by their closest acquaintances, and it was by observing them for years that I was able to spot Rose and Lissa's weird synchronicity when we first met.

Every day, innocents were dying by Rose's hands. Delaying our encounter seemed selfish, but I had been rushing into this, not thinking too much about anything. It was a way of coping with losing her, but I had to get back on track. I was at a disadvantage because she knew me too well, and I was making assumptions and lucky guesses about her. I was slipping through the cracks, losing myself little by little.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a noise and caught a reflection of something gold by the entrance of the alley. When I got there to investigate, all I could see was the empty street.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

I'm sorry, this took a little longer than I had expected. My life is a big mess right now lol. This chapter's song is St. Jude, by Florence and the Machine. If you don't dig the band, look for the lyrics, it's pure poetry. Also, things are going to get a little less angsty now. Dimitri is in conflict so I hope he is not too OOC.

Thanks for reading, and special thanks to the reviewers! See you next chapter


	6. Chapter 6

The trip to Baia was uneventful. Most of the time, I didn't think about anything at all. I would listen to music or try to read a book, but my brain was sluggish and I couldn't process the words printed on the pages, or the melody blasting in my ears.

Eventually, I found myself in front of Mark and Oksana's house. I didn't know exactly how I got here; the last tangible memory I had was renting a car. I looked around through the familiar landscape. I should be happy for being here after such a long time away, however, I felt… indifferent.

Their one-floor house was beautiful and cozy. I didn't know why, but it made my chest ache; the first spec of emotion I had felt in hours. For a second, I thought about turning around. I didn't know how I would deal with seeing familiar faces and explaining my situation. They would probably tell my family I visited and things would be awkward.

What was I thinking? I couldn't just walk through their doors and tell them about Rose. Being this near people I cared about would only compromise my mission. Cursing myself silently, I turned around, heading for the car when a familiar voice asked from behind me, "Dimitri?"

 _Damn._ I took a deep breath before facing Oksana. Her gentle, beautiful face showed confusion and concern. I wondered what my aura looked like. I forced a smile and greeted her in Russian.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I thought about coming by but I didn't want to disturb you." She smiled genuinely at me then. "Don't be silly, Mark and I missed you. Come, I'll make some tea and we can talk."

I had no choice but to follow her inside the house. I was aware that Mark would already know I was here because of their bond. As I sat down in their kitchen, she started preparing the tea and I heard the back door open. Mark walked in and greeted me happily, heading for the sink to wash his hands. Their dynamic had always amazed me. Of course, they could read each other's thoughts, but I always knew there was more to it than that. They had a sense of completeness around one another like you were the same person divided into two bodies. Their love for each other was so obvious on their every action I had to look away.

"It's been a while, Dimka," he said, smiling. "How's America?"

I tried to make small talk but I could tell they weren't fooled by my act. They knew that there was something going on. I felt a strange sensation in my head, then heat followed by coldness. My eyes shot up to where Oksana was sitting, her expression apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it," she explained. "You aura is all over the place and you look… so lost." I shrugged. Not even guardian training could help hiding things from Spirit users and their intrusive access to auras and mind reading. "It's okay," I said simply.

"It's more than that, Dimka," Mark intervened, after a moment of awkward silence. "You are numbing your feelings. This isn't healthy, and we can't help but wonder the reason why. Is that why you came here?"

I sighed. It was better to get this over with. There was no denying that I wasn't myself, but I needed to find out what they knew. Besides, I knew they cared about me and would do their best not to judge.

"I'm on a mission," I said, after a moment of silence. Oksana poured a cup of tea and placed it on the table in front of me. "It's not official, I…" I hesitated, in a loss for words. "I asked for time out from my duty as a guardian to look for someone."

"Is this someone a Strigoi?" She asked. I nodded, not sure how to explain things. I didn't want to open up. Running to someone else with my problems and expecting a solution wasn't my style, yet even if I sometimes managed to shut down my feelings, I was still hurting. So, I took a deep breath and started talking, keeping to the most basic information.

"This person used to be bonded to a Spirit user." They looked surprised by this information, but I didn't stop to let them process it. "She had shadow-kissed abilities. Strigoi are undead, so I just assumed she couldn't have kept her powers once she was turned, but I heard something a while ago that hinted to the contrary. So, I thought about coming here and asking you about how the bond works since you are the only living bonded pair I know of."

They looked at each other, faces full of concern. Mark was the first to talk.

"It is impossible for her to have kept her powers after being turned," he said, and I exhaled in relief. "Being shadow-kissed means we walk through the realms of the living and the dead, and, as you pointed out, Strigoi can't because they are neither. Also, the dead hate Strigoi."

As he stated things calmly, his face revealing nothing, I could tell he was keeping something away from me. I replayed his words in my head. "Can the dead harm Strigoi?" I asked.

"Not physically," Mark explained. I waited, but he didn't say anything else. "So," I began, "if a shadow-kissed person is turned, the dead they once could see can harm them mentally?"

He hesitated. "Only during the transformation, while she would still have access to her powers. Once complete, only another shadow-kissed person can turn the dead against her. I don't doubt that the transformation was painful to this person because I don't know how the ghosts would react during the process, but from my experience, I don't think they were friendly."

I stared through their windows. I could remember Rose's pain when the dead sought her out in the plane from Court. Back then, they weren't trying to hurt her. I shivered.

"I'm sorry, Dimitri," he said. I didn't answer. I didn't even look at him. "I wish I could help you, but I don't think you should be looking for her. You need to grieve and go back to your life."

"Is that what you would do if Oksana was turned?" I asked, simply. When I looked up I could see Mark was torn. He didn't want to support me on my foolish suicide mission. He wanted what was best for me. But he was trained the same way I was and knew what Strigoi were capable of. Surprisingly, it was Oksana who broke the silence.

"I would wish for him to move on," she said. "We know we can't stop you from doing whatever you're planning, but you have to see your family first. You have to do it for them. Go home, Dimitri."

I knew she wasn't kicking me out of their place, she was just stating something she believed in. I thought about going home and seeing my family. My mother, always welcoming and full of love, would be happy to have me back under her wing. My sisters, my little nephew, even my grandmother would celebrate my return, no matter how brief it was. Yeva would kick me out eventually, but I knew she missed me as much as I missed her.

Going home could give me a sense of normalcy. If I never returned from my mission, this could be my last chance to tell my family that I loved them. So I finished my tea and headed out after they promised they wouldn't discuss my visit with anyone.

It wasn't until much later that I realized Oksana had compelled me.

* * *

It was weird, being outside the house I grew up in and feeling so lost, like instead of a few years I'd been away for several decades. I didn't know what to expect. I was afraid of meeting my family. I was afraid of their questions.

I had to man up and face them, though. I knocked on the door and heard someone walking inside the house. The door opened, revealing a disheveled Viktoria. She did a double take when she saw me, like she couldn't believe it was really me, but jumped in my arms, squealing happily.

I could taste bile as anxiety crept through my chest and my heartbeat quickened. I didn't know why I was reacting like this after being hugged by my own sister. She was different from what I remembered, looking more grown up. When she let go of me, she started asking questions at top speed and I didn't know what to say or how to react.

That was when I heard my mother's voice approaching. "What's the meaning of this fuss, Vika? Who is there?"

"Dimka!" Vika answered. I was on the verge of a panic attack now.

My mother's face appeared by the door then, and she looked so happy I started feeling guilty for not sharing their enthusiasm. "Come on in, boy! You'll catch a cold," she said, hugging me fiercely.

My whole family seemed ecstatic to have me home. Karolina and her two children greeted me happily, and so did Sonya. She was in an advanced stage of pregnancy. I felt bad for not knowing about this and having no idea who the father was. Yeva was the only one who didn't look thrilled to see me. She gave me a knowing look, piercing me with her eyes, and didn't say a word.

My mom poured a shot of vodka for me as I sat down around the table. I welcomed it, drinking without a second thought. None of them seemed to notice that I was about to have a breakdown, so they kept asking me questions I did my best to respond. When they asked what I was doing here, I lied that I decided to take some time off to visit them. They told me the news on almost everyone in the village and how things were in our own household. Vika was on vacation for Easter, and Sonya was working at a nearby drugstore. Karo was dating a dhampir guy.

It was getting harder and harder to breathe and not even the vodka could help me calm down. "I'm sorry, it was a long flight," I said when I couldn't stand the conversation anymore, excusing myself from their company. "Where can I have some sleep?"

My mom smiled at me, clueless to why I was avoiding them. "You can have your old room. Vika can share with Karo while you are here. Do you need anything?"

"No!" I said, a little too quickly. She frowned at me and I felt like shit. "Sorry, I just really need to sleep. When I wake up I can tell you guys everything. And I could sleep on the couch, if you'd like, Vika."

She smiled at me. "Don't be silly. I'm the one who invaded your room."

My mom and Karolina were eyeing me warily, like they finally understood there was something off but couldn't put their fingers on it. Sonya seemed tired, and Vika went upstairs to grab a few things so I could have the room. Yeva was nowhere to be seen.

I went upstairs. Vika had already left the room when I walked through the door. Most of the things were exactly the same, but my sister had redecorated: the walls, once bare, were full of posters of her favorite bands and photographs of her friends. The bookshelf was empty. There were clothes hanging everywhere, including the foot of the bed. Absent mindedly, I started organizing her stuff.

This was my home. This was my family. Why was feeling like I didn't belong here? Why was I homesick?

* * *

 **Author's Note**

Hey there, human being!

I hope you liked this chapter. I would like to hear from you: how do you think this story will turn out? I have it all planned in my head, so far, and I'm really curious to know your thoughts on the plot.

For the ones that reviewed the story as guests: I can't answer you via PM but you guys are amazing. Thank you to all of you who took the time to review, follow and favorite the story.

This chapter's song is Homesick, by The Cure.


	7. Chapter 7

I was getting tired of myself.

I had been in Baia for a week. I didn't want to leave, not yet, because I felt like I owed my family an explanation to why I was really here. It was unfair to come home and then just walk away, leaving everyone worried and giving them no guarantees to when I would come back, if I would come back.

What made everything worse was that they had these great expectations of my visit.

I had been away for too long and then came here with a half-assed explanation. The last few days were tiring, since my mother made me run errands for her. It certainly didn't help that the house was full of people all the time, visitors wanting to see me. She was even discussing the possibility of throwing a party to celebrate my home coming, and everyone in Baia knew that once Olena Alexandrovna decided to throw a party, she didn't do it halfway. There would be no peace in the house until after it was over.

She had perceived my sadness even if I had tried my best to hide it, and was doing everything she could to make me feel better. My definition of comfort, however, was very different from hers.

I didn't mind my mother's overzealous attitude, though. I loved her for her kindness and, if anything, I was mad at myself for being such a jerk. I had nothing to fear, not here. Here, there was only love. The women of my life were the source of my strength; the very cornerstone with which I had built and defined myself on. Each of them had a place in making me the person I was. I knew they wouldn't judge me; that they would be there for me.

Some days were better than others. I would sit down and read my mother's books, the ones she had me handling with care when I was a little boy. I remembered telling Rose about them; the leather covers and golden titles. The adventurous heroes within their pages. I missed these books, and running my hands through them was like reaching out to the past. Being a child, I could have believed in anything. There was no doubt, even when things were bad, that good times were coming.

Some days we would sit down around the table and I would help Mama bake black bread for everyone. Vika would tell me about St. Basil's and how things had changed. She reminded me of myself when I was her age, learning about the pain and the delight of being alive and growing up, yet she was still so innocent in many ways. Karo would bring her boyfriend home and our conversations wouldn't make my chest hurt. Her children, Paul and Zoya, would play around the living room, and I would laugh at their attempts to chase each other around, stumbling and dropping things along the way. Yeva would make a sarcastic remark and tell us about her dreams while she stitched up the holes in our clothes. Sonya would complain about her enormous feet and Karo would tease her. They would fight and make up right afterwards, and we would laugh at their silliness.

The vast majority of days were bad, though. I didn't need much to remember Rose, even if I was in a place she had never been before, because she was so buried so deep inside me that every action I made was full of her. My family would demand attention when I needed time for myself, and I would get nervous and anxious and act like an asshole, hurting everybody in the process. This house was full of my own demons, as well.

As much as I cherished the memories of growing up here, I could see my father's face in every corner. I couldn't understand men like my father. Of course, in his case, there was more than misogyny behind his abusive behavior – we, dhampirs, were often seen by Moroi (being it men or women) as nothing more than workforce, sex objects, or baby makers. How could he look at my mother and see her as anything less than a fierce, incredible person with an enormous heart? How could anyone look at people like Yeva, Karo, Sonya, Vika, _Rose_ , and think that they were less capable of anything for just because they were women?

Thinking about him always made things so much harder, and today was a bad day. It wasn't difficult to flare my anger when I had so many things to be mad about. I wish I could scream at someone or hit something. I couldn't tear my sister's room apart, though, so I headed out. It was pretty early in the morning and everybody else was asleep. I found my way through the streets of Baia, heading for a forgotten place in the center of town. It was like an old gym/dance studio where the teenagers would hang to do all sorts of illegal things. The equipment was rusted and dusty, and the place was thoroughly abandoned. The walls were covered in mirrors, making me feel dizzy.

As soon as I got there, I started abusing a ragged punching bag as if it was the higher power responsible for everything that had gone wrong with my life. I didn't bother wearing gloves as I punched, but with no one to hold it, the bag was swaying too hard. Frustrated, I hit it one last time with as much force as I could muster.

Suddenly, all my control slipped me. I couldn't keep this collected façade anymore, and all the frustration poured out of me and fueled my anger, blowing it to proportions I had never experienced in my whole life, except, perhaps, for when I beat up my father. I felt powerful and like nothing could hold me back. Then it was gone. The anger burned out as quickly as it came. Soon enough, I couldn't tell who and what to blame for it. Was it the stupid punching bag, for being so old? Was it God? Was it Oksana, for making me face my fears much too soon? Was it the blond Strigoi that took everything away from me? Was it Rose, for saving my stupid life? Was it myself, for simply existing?

I stared at my face in a mirror on the opposite wall. The scenario around me showed decay, the deactivated equipment seeming like a rusty echo of its old glory, the mirror cracked in many places. It seemed like a picture of my soul. There were living things and broken things, I thought. I was in the broken pile.

I didn't know for how long I stayed in the empty gym, sitting down, staring at the floor, seeing nothing. Eventually, I heard the door open. I was surprised to see my mother, of all people, walking towards me.

"I thought you would be here," she said with a sad smile, as she took in the scene around me.

I took a deep breath. Of course, she would know where to find me. Every time things got hard, I would run to this place and overexert myself until I had no energy left to think. I've been doing it for as long as I could remember. She had always respected my wish to be left alone, though.

"Is everything okay, Mama?" I asked out of social protocol, my voice hollow.

"You are the one to tell me, Dimitri. Only your body came home. Where's your heart?"

I looked at her. She seemed concerned, and after twenty-five years of knowing each other, I could see the love behind her wrinkles. I sighed but didn't say a word as she sat down beside me. I had always admired my mother for her strength, but it was her vulnerability that awed me the most. She knew when to rely on people, when to show her emotions. Wearing her heart on her sleeve, I had always seen her compassion, forgiveness, and commitment. Those old eyes bore into my soul as she saw me: not as the dark, mysterious guardian persona I hid behind after Ivan died, but as the man she raised through infancy, the kid that learned to fight to save himself and the ones he loved but was still scared and scarred and had no idea of what to do about it.

"Who is she?" my mother asked. I was surprised at her blunt question but stayed silent. "Your babushka told me about her. Yeva saw her in a dream some time ago and said that she blazed with light, like a warrior of goodness. The type of person your grandmother is always rambling about, someone with the power to change the whole world with a single action."

"She was," I answered finally, after several moments of silence. I started talking, not sure if it was a conscious effort or if I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer. No one but my mother could make speak about Rose, because she had a way of tearing down my walls and speaking directly to my soul. "She was pure, raw energy, and I could see that she was capable of great things from the moment I met her. People would put her down for her reckless nature, but I wasn't fooled. She had me intrigued since day one."

And then I told my mother everything. Every precious memory I had kept to myself from the moment we met, the months of training, the lust charm, the realization that we couldn't be together, Tasha's offer, Spokane, Victor's trial, the cabin in the woods, the attack and finally the rescue mission and the aftermath of the battle. By the end of my tale, I was leaning on my mother for support, and when she held me, I couldn't hold the tears any longer.

"I always tried to be a good person." I continued, voicing the thoughts that haunted me for weeks. "Well, as good as trained assassins went. I have no pretense of seeing myself as God's warrior, battling evil and saving innocent souls, as some guardians undoubtedly do.

"I killed, lied, coveted… the list of my sins goes on and on. I'd like to think that everything I did was for a greater cause and that the lives I took would balance with the ones I saved. If I am such a good person, though, wouldn't I deserve love? How come all good things in my life end? Ivan, Rose, one by one I'm losing everyone I love and care about. If I am such a good person, why do I always end up alone?" my voice cracked by the end of my rant and I just stared at the ground feeling like a lost little boy, unable to look at my mother.

She had stayed silent through my whole monologue. She held me now, caressing my back with such gentleness I felt unworthy. It was really rare, to meet someone that knew when to speak and when to stay quiet. That was one of the reasons my connection with Rose had been so special – we knew exactly what the other needed of us. Mama had kept her distance through the whole week, coming to me only when she felt I was ready to share whatever was hurting me. And when I needed to speak, she let me.

"You are a good person, son. Sometimes I think I know you better than you do," She replied after a while, her voice calm and sad. "Sometimes, bad things happen to good people. It's frustrating that we should just accept it, and based on what you told me about Rose, she never did, but that didn't stop her from living. Take her as an example. Own the bad things that happened because life is just this. It's not a matter of deserving or not.

"I wish I could shield you from all the evil in the world," she continued, "but when you are a mother, you learn very early that if you want your kids' lives to be their own, there are things you can't control. I decided on the day you were born that if I couldn't stop bad things from happening to you, I wish I could at least understand what you are going through.

"I know what it's like, to care so much about someone that the very thought of losing them is inconceivably painful, but the people I love the most are still here with me. I want you under my wing, but you proved to me from very early on that you don't need me to build walls around you. I can't stop you from doing what you have to do for Rose, but you have to come back to me, Dimka. You have to find beauty, turn your back from all the dead things that were left behind. You are not amongst them."

I knew then that I had her blessing to do what I needed to be done. My heart swelled with love for her, a love so strong it numbed the bad feelings for a few precious seconds. We just sat in there in silence after that, as I tried to gather my thoughts. I knew my mother was right, I was letting myself be stopped by my grief. It was no use wondering if I deserved the things that happened to me, because deep down I knew they would have happened anyway. I was dangerously close to feeling sorry for myself and giving up the fight.

Eventually, my mother had to go back to the house and cook lunch, so we left. I was walking right behind her, so she had to turn around to see my face.

"If you let me, I would like to hold a funeral for Rose," she whispered, "just between us. She's the one you chose, so she was part of our family, and even if we never met, I can see why you loved her and that we would, too, if we had been given the chance."

"I don't know if I can handle explaining things to everyone," I responded warily.

"You won't have to," she promised.

I nodded as we walked towards the house, feeling lighter with every step I took, as if the words spoken had unburdened me somehow.

My guardian senses kicked into action just as we turned around the corner to our home. There was a man leaning against our wall. He looked familiar but I couldn't remember where we had met before. He was wearing the flashiest assemble of clothing I had ever seen: a lime green fedora hat and a matching scarf, over a white formal suit that looked very expensive. His golden earring was so shiny, it was hard to look directly at him. Two things were obvious: one, he was a Moroi and two, he was very rich.

Two other men approached us from behind, and I immediately got ready for battle, stepping into a defensive position over my mother. The guy with the fedora smiled at that, and his guardians – that was one logical explanation for the two bulky dhampirs behind me – stopped as well, ready for my attack.

"There's no need for animosity," the Moroi man said, still smiling, "at least not yet. Later, maybe. I'll be the judge of that after you answer my question, Dimitri Belikov."

"Who are you?" I asked, wary.

"Oh, I'm Abe Mazur," he stated and the puzzle solved itself inside my head. "I'm known around here as Zmey. You might have heard of me. I'm here to ask you, Belikov, about your intentions with my dead daughter."

* * *

 **A/N.:** I hope you liked this chapter! Thanks for reading

While reading BP, it bothered me that Rose never took the time to fully grieve Dimitri and feel sad about what was going on. I know that Rose's nature is being very straightforward about her pain, but she had been through some serious shit and I wish we could have seen a more vulnerable side of her.

I know I promised things would get less angsty, but there was no way I could leave Dimitri with all those feelings bottled up inside him. So, if this chapter seems like too much/a filler/too OOC, please forgive me. I based his reaction in his depression after the restoration and how he dealt with guilt and pain then.

(Also, this chapter's song is I Know It's Over by The Smiths. Seriously, look for the lyrics. It's one of the most beautiful songs ever written).


	8. Chapter 8

Zmey's willingness to reveal his name was an evidence of his intentions. He wanted me to be afraid of his reputation as a ruthless mobster, but I knew better than to show my recognition and kept my act together, my face expressionless after his introduction.

He was well-known around here, visiting Baia all the time to take care of his multiple businesses – some rumored to be illegal –, but I had never associated the man with the face until now. He had spoken in fluent Russian, but the cadence of the words was off. He had an accent I had never heard before.

I realized he had been the person standing by Janine's side at the funeral. I had guessed right, he was Rose's father. For an amusing second, I wondered how she would react after knowing her dad's reputation and meeting the flashy Moroi. The thought almost made me smile, but as I studied Abe's face, every trace of humor died; his pale complexion would be the same shade of light brown as hers if he could walk freely under the sun. Their hair and eyes had the same color.

He carried himself with confidence that could be read as cockiness, just as she had. A careless person would shrug him off as a harmless conceited man in an instant. I was bigger than him and could take him in a fight – not to brag, but I was pretty sure I could take his guardians too. There was a dangerous undertone to his demeanor, though, that made my self-preservation instincts flare. Underestimating Abe Mazur would be a very dangerous choice.

"Are you serious, Abe?" My mother hissed behind me, taking me by surprise. "You came to my house to threaten my son?"

His gaze bored into her, his expression softening. She didn't acknowledge it, still looking at him with disapproval.

"Hey there, Olena," he greeted her with a huge grin. "Long time no see."

Before I had the chance to wonder how on Earth my mother got to a first name basis with him, the door to our house opened, revealing Yeva's annoyed face.

"Are you going to stand there in the cold," she grumbled "or will you come inside so we can discuss things like the civilized people we are?"

I was rendered speechless for a few moments. The day had begun with an emotional breakdown and was now taking a bizarre turn, as my mother, grandmother, and a mob boss in a fedora hat – who also turned out to be Rose's father – looked in my direction, waiting for my response.

"Come on in, I'm old," Yeva ranted. "I'll die soon, there's no such a thing as time to waste."

Abe was the first to move, motioning for his guards to stay put. Mama followed him, and I had no choice but to go inside as well. Babushka sat down on a chair around our dining table, pouring four shots of vodka. Zmey sat by her side – he had taken off his hat, revealing that his hair was indeed "wicked cool", just as Rose had guessed some time ago. My mother and I took the seats on the opposite side of the table.

"I guess I should apologize for my sudden, unannounced appearance," said Abe, looking anything but sorry, and drinking his vodka quickly without as much as a grimace. "I hope you understand my need to check on your son when I heard that he was torturing Strigoi all over Russia, asking about someone who was buried and mourned almost a month ago."

I snorted at his exaggeration.

"She wasn't buried," I answered, calmly. "There wasn't a body to mourn."

"Are you trying to produce one, or is this your idea of a fun pastime?" His voice was harsh. I didn't answer but kept my gaze locked with his, refusing to back down.

I felt my mother stiffening by my side. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Yeva looked slightly amused. I was aware of Zmey's every movement, watching the door in case his guardians came inside.

After a while, he gave me a crooked smile. "You know, kid, you could at least have been more careful. One of the Alchemists assigned to St. Petersburg had to clean up after you almost every night you spent there. If the tale of your heroic antics gets to Court, you're screwed. So tell me, why should I keep this knowledge to myself?"

 _Fuck_. I had been careless, that much was true. If there was an Alchemist involved, the Guardian Council could already be aware of my position. Abe made it sound like he had this person wrapped around his finger, though. He could be bluffing, but I didn't believe that was the case. How would he know about my days in St. Petersburg without an informant? My mind went back to the day in the alley and the golden gleam I saw after finishing that Strigoi. Had it been the Alchemist he was talking about, following me around? Also, he had no reason for lying to me: between the two of us, he was the one with the power.

"What exactly do you want to know?" I asked, cautiously. He shrugged.

"Let's start with the basics. I already know all about your life; I did my research. What I don't know is the nature of your relationship with Rose, your student, and why you risked losing your job to hunt her down without as much as a confirmation of her whereabouts."

Janine hadn't told him about my relationship with their daughter, I realized. Had she been afraid of his reaction? This situation was getting worse every second.

"When was Rose born?" Yeva questioned abruptly. She and my mother had been very quiet through the whole conversation and I wasn't expecting their interference anytime soon.

"March, the 21st, 1992," Abe replied as if the question wasn't weird at all.

"Sun in Aries, uh? Oh, this is unexpected," She chuckled and eyed me in a way that made me feel self-conscious. "I wish I could meet her. Do you know anything else about her natal chart?" Her choice of words made me shiver. She was speaking as if Rose was still alive even though I was pretty sure she had been able to tell that something had happened from the conversation she heard.

"Moon in Scorpio, Aquarius rising, I believe. I can't know for sure. Her mother didn't tell me her accurate time of birth; you know how skeptical she is about this sort of things."

Yeva rolled her eyes, "Typical. I'll go get the cards. You two should listen to each other and try not to fight. Come with me, Olena."

My mother gave me a kiss on the cheek and left the room. I downed my shot of vodka and started playing with the glass, gathering my thoughts.

"Where do you know them from?" I was curious about Abe's relationship with my family.

"Your grandmother is a dear and old friend. I came to her my whole life, looking for advice. I saw you here more than once when you were a little boy. I guess you wouldn't remember every client she had, though, and soon enough you were off to St. Basil's. That was how I met Olena as well." I nodded, wondering how I could have forgotten a man like this.

"I was Rose's mentor," I blurted out. I could tell he was being honest with me so far, even if he wasn't telling me the whole truth. I would repay him with sincerity, whatever the consequences were.

He looked at me in silence as I told him an edited version of the story my mother had heard earlier, leaving out the gruesome details, such as the lust charm and the cabin. Reliving those memories twice on the same day was tiring and painful, but I managed to get to the end of my tale. Abe had kept his face impassive as I spoke, but when I finished his brows were furrowed. I tensed, waiting for him to react further.

"I don't know if I should consider you a fool or a really brave man," he told me, "but I can tell you there are not many people who would have the nerve to sit in front of me and tell me that they 'fell in love' with my underaged daughter."

I didn't react to his statement; it seemed like an accusation. My mother and grandmother walked back into the room, then. Yeva brought with her an old battered deck of tarot cards she immediately started to shuffle as they took their previous seats.

"You know, Dimka is a Sagittarius," she said, causing Abe to snort. Great, apparently the position of the stars in the moment I was born was another reason for him to hate me. "Oh, don't be foolish, let me finish. I did the calculations myself. He has Moon in Taurus, Aries rising. Do you really believe they could have kept away from each other being so alike?"

"They should have," was his only response, but his face grew softer, making me relax a little. Babushka laughed and arranged the cards, turning some of them up, muttering things to herself. Grabbing the bottle of vodka from the table and pouring himself another drink, Abe sighed.

"That being said," He continued, after a while, "I think you should go on with whatever you're doing and find her."

Saying that I was surprised by his declaration was an understatement. "You want me to go after Rose?"

He dismissed my words with a shake of his head.

"Rose is dead. I want you to go after the bastard that killed her. I want her to be in peace. If you need money, I can provide you; I have plenty. If you need a cover-up at Court, I can take care of that too. Just say the word and I'll help you."

I was hesitant to make a deal with him. I had heard the stories. Compared to him, the Devil was a merciful helper.

"What's the catch?"

"There's no catch, Belikov," his accent got thicker. "I do plenty of things for my own benefit, but the ones I love will always come first. I know I wasn't the best of fathers. I guess Rose told you we never met. I can hear your judgment even when you are in silence."

Despite his elusive nature, Abe Mazur wasn't a very difficult man to read; at least not once you had met his daughter. They had the same way of hiding themselves behind a tough face, the same sarcastic approach to every situation. When there was need, though, they would be very straightforward. I could see that he meant every word he said.

"We are having a funeral for her," I said before I could change my mind. My mother held my hand under the table, and I was glad for the support. "You should come. That is, if you'd like."

He smiled tentatively. "I do prefer Russian funerals. Plenty of alcohol involved."

I nodded, not sure of what to say. Yeva was still grumbling under her breath. She shuffled the cards again and after organizing them she asked me to flip up three. I did what she told and waited for her answer.

There were two cards upside down. The first one was the Knight of Swords; the second was the Queen of Swords. The third card was Death.

"Well, that doesn't look so good." It really didn't. Most of the time, if the cards came upside down it meant that their attributes were twisted in a bad way. "You'll cross paths with an unpredictable energy, cruel and clever. This encounter will lead to a closure for both of you."

I respected my grandmother's arts. Her predictions came true more often than not, but I was a little annoyed at the cards for telling me something I could guess for myself. "What kind of closure?"

"That is for you to discover in due time." I exhaled and she glared at me, her piercing brown eyes making me feel very uncomfortable.

Was it so obvious, though? I had no idea if I would find Rose, and the cards confirmed our encounter. Suddenly, my mind went back to the day after Victor Dashkov's trial. She and Lissa had disappeared inside Court, and I found them talking to Rhonda. Back then, Rose had mocked the accuracy of the woman's predictions, but I could see that she was a little scared of her fortune.

 _You will lose what you value the most, so treasure it while you can._

Rhonda had been right.

"The future is always frightening," said Yeva, noticing my expression, "and I know you are hurting, Dimka." This was rare. My grandmother wasn't the most supportive person, even if she wasn't heartless. To her, we had to accept our lot in life and live with it without complaining. I respected that; it was her way of coping with the bad things she had been through. "Things will come back, even if it's to where they don't belong. They always do."

I had no idea what she was talking about, but nodded anyway. She got up from her seat, taking the cards with her and leaving for the kitchen to start organizing the funeral. My mother followed.

* * *

 **A/N.:** Olá :)

So, Abe's here! *Sympathy for the Devil starts playing* Kudos to KaralettVAddict and everyone who guessed it was Sydney in the alley (I guess I suck at being mysterious). I actually wrote their encounter, but decided against it since she would be terrified of Dimitri. I know she's pretty brave, but seeing a 6'7 dhampir torturing a Strigoi would make almost everyone back off.

What do you think of the characters so far?

I love astrology and tarot, but my knowledge on both is pretty basic. Do you agree with my assessment? Also, I think Abe is a Gemini, Yeva is a Leo and Olena is a Pisces (I have no idea if Mead revealed their birthdays, so I hope I'm guessing right).

This chapter's song is Sign of the Zodiac, by Rasputina.

Also, make sure to check my series of one-shots, _Decades_ , if you'd like. They are drafts I make sometimes, more similar what I usually write in my mother tongue. I hope you like them, but if you don't, tell me anyway.


	9. Chapter 9

The last thing I was expecting after a day like this was dreaming of Adrian.

The funeral had been small, as my mother had promised. Only my family, Abe, Mark, and Oksana had come. Only I had met Rose personally before, so there wasn't much to say. After several shots of vodka, I wasn't so self-conscious about being the under the spotlight anymore, and the words flowed more easily, but I was still every bit as antisocial as I always had been so all the while I was secretly hoping everyone would leave.

My mother said beautiful words of acceptance and love, telling everyone what happened and how she was grateful for Rose's bravery and unselfishness. She gave me the opportunity to speak then, and my mind went blank as I faced the task in front of me, experiencing a weird form of stage-fright.

I ended up telling them about the night of St. Varvara's and the scavenger hunt, and we laughed together through the whole narrative of Rose struggling to have the most points to win dark chocolate bacon truffles for Christian. She had told me about the boy's misfortunes, hoping that I would let her finish the tasks without reporting her to Alberta. However, even if he wasn't the reason she was competing, I think I would have helped anyway. It was kind of pathetic, but I knew that if she asked me to jump, I would never question how high.

It had been one of the most thrilling moments of my life – the possibility of getting caught made everything more vivid. I felt like I was a teenager, my body full of adrenaline. Actually, I had never felt like that when I was an _actual_ teenager. Sure, I misbehaved a lot and did my share of rule-breaking, but I guess Rose had a way of intensifying every experience.

That was something I never thought I would tell anybody, but seemed suitable for the situation in hand. It was me remembering her, not as my star-crossed lover, but as the girl I fell for, the one who would turn the school upside down just to win a box of candy to cheer up her friend.

If she ever heard me saying those things, I think she would have accused me of giving sappy speeches, and told me to get to the point. Deep down, however, I think she would have been touched. I knew sometimes I could sound pretentious – Rose's annoyance with my "Zen life lessons" proved that much – but there were things that deserved big words and epic monologues, things that were hard to explain exactly because of their simplicity. I hadn't been graced with the gift for briefness.

Abe kept quiet as my sisters offered their condolences, as did Mark and Oksana. The Spirit user's expression was ashamed yet resolved: she hadn't wanted to interfere by compelling me into coming back to my family, but didn't regret her decision. I understood that now, my anger completely forgotten. I wasn't better, not really, but something inside me felt right for the first time in ages, and I owed it to her. Yeva kept to herself, her expression unreadable, and my mother walked around, refilling our glasses and making sure we ate everything she cooked.

"I guess you should speak too," Yeva pointed out after a while, looking directly at Zmey. "She was your daughter, after all."

He shrugged. "I have nothing to say."

My grandmother scowled at him. He grimaced and kept drinking his vodka, looking down.

I caught Oksana and Mark exchanging a few weird glances, as if they were arguing mentally. As soon as they saw me looking in their direction, their faces turned reserved. I wasn't interested enough on whatever it was that made them disagree to keep wondering about their strange behavior, so I just shrugged it off and kept to myself until everybody left and I was able to go to my room.

By the time I had the opportunity to sleep, I was pretty drunk and decided to take a shower to clear my thoughts. Undressing and making my way to the bathroom through the deserted hallway, I replayed the last month in my head in the hopes of finding some sense in my life during the drunken haze, but only succeeded at getting a headache.

After a long shower that didn't help at all, I laid down to sleep, and as I started drifting the world around me shifted and I was taken to a place I thought I wouldn't see so soon: St. Vladimir's school library. I could hear Boney M's _Rasputin_ playing in the background and that should have been the first sign to what I was about to face, but my brain seemed to be on a holiday.

"My favorite cradle robber," I heard his voice from behind me, and turned around to find Adrian Ivashkov smirking at me. "Actually, since you chose to rob the cradle I was rocking, you are not eligible for the number one position in my ranking, but you get the point."

I growled. Rose had told me about Adrian's ability of walking into people's dreams, but I had never experienced it before. It was actually fairly similar to reality, but there was an intangible quality to my surroundings, as if my brain was aware that everything could crumble down at any moment from now.

"If I had wanted to be around you, I would have stayed at St. Vladimir's, Adrian," I answered, not as calmly as I would have if I was talking to any other person.

"Do you really believe I want to see you, John Wayne? You represent everything that is wrong with my life; if I had a shrink, I would tell him bad things about you, and I'm not even sorry." He was joking, but I could see something brewing underneath the surface. Adrian had an easy-going nature and was a people's person – he was pretty good at hiding his true feelings. My experience of observing things behind the stage left me no doubt, though: he was hurting, and he was uncomfortable.

"Maybe you should see a shrink," I retorted whilst leaving my voice light and playful, trying to tease him and make him feel more at ease without even realizing what I was doing, "that way you wouldn't feel the need to bother me when I'm trying to get some sleep."

He snorted. "Wouldn't I? Not many shrinks have guardian training."

I waited for him to elaborate, but his theatrical personality would have me following a script he undoubtedly had rehearsed in his mind.

"What do you need my guardian training for?" I conceded. He smiled lazily.

"This may come as a surprise to you, but the only thing I need you to do is protecting your charge."

That declaration made me stop dead in my tracks.

"What happened to Princess Vasilisa?" I immediately though of waking up after collecting the information I needed and heading back to the US to keep her from danger. It was like I couldn't turn my training off, not even in my sleep. As I mentally planned my trip, Adrian cocked his head to the side and eyed me warily.

"Nothing. At least not yet," he responded, and I relaxed a little, waiting for the rest. "She's struggling with the darkness without…" he took a deep breath, "Rose to take it away. The thing is, I don't think she wants to fight it anymore. We thought she was taking her pills again but found out that she had been throwing them away.

"The cuts have been getting deeper. Christian is freaked out. She won't let him in, won't share anything with him. There's this girl who tried to become friends with her, Avery, who is very fun to hang out with but Lissa shied away from her and completely lashed out at us one night after we suggested she should have fun. She thinks we are trying to replace Rose. The only person she's not mad at is you, not even after you left. Actually, I believe she isn't mad at you _because_ you left. I think she finally found out that you were more than a mentor to Rose. I don't know why it took her so long."

My heart broke at the thought of such a good person in this fragile mental state, especially being able to understand her pain, to some extent. We were both bonded to Rose in different ways. I wanted her to be okay, and it frustrated me that in order to do that I would have to leave my search for her best friend behind.

I was certain of what Rose would have chosen if she had been in my place. She wouldn't have thought twice before saying yes to Adrian and going back. That, I thought, was the main difference between the two of us. There wasn't much I could do for Lissa as it was, but I was ashamed of my next words nonetheless.

"I'm sorry, Adrian, but I'm not Rose. I can't replace her, and I can't take the darkness away. Lissa needs a doctor, not me."

He seemed a little thrown off by my response, but the surprise in his eyes became anger as he realized there was a refusal behind my words.

"I know you are not Rose, she was a much better person than you," he snapped, "but I thought you had at least a bit of decency left inside you to leave your vacation and do something for the person the woman you claimed to love swore to protect."

His face was flustered, and his confused, sincere words cut open my much abused chest. I grimaced, making him noticing something for the first time during this conversation, looking just above my head with a vacant expression. He was reading my aura, I realized. When his eyes came back to mine, I could see him struggling with whatever he had seen.

"You are not in a vacation, are you?" his voice was quiet and his eyes went back to the top of my head, waiting for my answer.

"I thought you had figured that one out ever since I left."

He cursed under his breath.

"You are _hunting her_? God, you are even crazier than I thought. I thought… I just assumed you really needed time for yourself, I mean… I could see that you loved her and when she… God, what the fuck."

I cocked my eyebrow at his heresy but made no commentaries on the matter. After a while and plenty of swearing, he recomposed himself enough to mention the elephant in the room.

"You know that Lissa is alive, right? You can actually save her, as Rose would want you to. I mean, if anything happens to her when you are away, you'll probably lose your job, or worse. Not that I care about you, but Rose is beyond help right now. Drop it, Cowboy. Come home."

I just stared at him, thinking about all the times I had to put my needs and my well-being behind in order to deal with Moroi. _They didn't come first. Not anymore._

"I'm looking after Rose, Adrian, because nobody ever did," I finally said, after a long, charged silence. "Lissa is surrounded by people who love her and care about her. She will come through this; she's strong enough to be alone and I've known that since the day we met."

Conjuring a pack of cigarettes from… well, wherever, Adrian lighted up one as the background music changed to _Kiss from a Rose_ , by Seal.

"Do you think this is a joke?" I couldn't believe him. He seemed confused, so I gestured to the radio resting in one of the tables.

It was like he was noticing the soundtrack for the first time. He grimaced.

"The music wasn't supposed to change, but sometimes dreams will do that. You know, pick things from your subconscious and use them without your permission." Urge Overkill's _Girl, You'll be a Woman Soon_ started playing then, and I rolled my eyes at his choice.

"You make it really hard to hate you with your warlord propaganda, you know. All manly, doing manly things in a manly way," he told me after some consideration, his tone somewhere between lively and bitter. "And now you are acting like fucking Buffy in a leather duster, going after your soulless lover to release her from being a demon, and it's no wonder I have issues after you chose to fall for the same girl I did."

I didn't answer. For one, I had never watched Buffy, so his reference was lost on me. Also, the declaration of his love for Rose made me feel uncomfortable.

"Oh, come on!" He said, exasperated. "You never watched the show? What kind of half-vampire are you? You should at least be aware of the plot. I won't be able to communicate with you without using an obscene amount of metaphors and pop culture slang." I shrugged. "I guess there aren't many Westerns about undead vampires that I could use to prove my point."

"Not that I'm aware of."

He thought about it for a moment.

"I take it you know Orpheus?" He asked.

"I'm not an illiterate brute, you know," I stated, annoyed.

He laughed at my expression. "Yeah, I'm aware. Rose loved to complain about your reading habits. If anything, I'm surprised at myself for thinking about it. Take a moment to appreciate the rarity of this moment: Adrian Ivashkov, referencing an Old Greek myth during an ordinary conversation. You left me no choice in the matter, though."

"Talking to someone in a dream is hardly ordinary, Adrian, no matter the subject."

"Well, I guess," he conceded. "Anyway, as Moroi are really into this kind of stuff, I took several classes concerning the Greeks and slept through most of them, but this was something that really marked me. Talk about bad luck, right? I mean, there is Oedipus, marrying his mother and ending up in psychology books, and that's a bummer, but nobody screwed up like Orpheus."

We fell silent for a moment, my mood plummeting. The myth of Orpheus and Eurydice was actually one of my favorite stories of all times. After his soulmate died on the day of their wedding, Orpheus – a son of Apollo with a talent for music so pure he could make grown men cry with a single note – picked his lire and played it, never stopping, until he opened a passage to the Underworld. When he got there, he demanded that Hades gave back the woman he loved, and the god conceded to let Eurydice follow her lover to the land of the living, but there was a catch. On the way back, she would be behind him but Orpheus had to look ahead all times, no matter what happened. Agreeing to Hades conditions, the man started his journey but as the hours passed he felt more and more alone, until he couldn't help himself and decided to turn around, just to see Eurydice being taken away from him for his own stupidity.

"Sometimes I think that is the only thing you should be able to do if you love somebody," Adrian muttered in a strange tone that made me shiver, wondering if this was another Spirit's episode.

"What? Singing your way to Hell to get them back from the dead?" My joke fell flat and he didn't reply for a long while.

"Being able to keep walking and never turning around," his tone and expression were wistful, almost sad. That phrase was the last thing I heard before drifting back into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next morning, my head was hurting like hell and I could use some more sleep, but my grandmother wasn't having it. Yeva woke me up in the crack of dawn and made me go downstairs without telling me why I was needed there. I knew better than to complain; I valued my life too much to cross her.

To my surprise, I found Mark, Oksana, and Abe, all up, drinking black coffee and waiting for me. My mother was in the kitchen, preparing something for us to eat. I sat down in silence, my hangover forgotten for the time being, and waited for someone to start talking.

To my surprise, it was Oksana who broke the silence. Her face was pleading, her tone passionate.

"Mitya, I've known you since we were kids and I consider the Belikovs an extension of my own family. You all know that. So when you came to us I panicked after seeing you in so much pain. I'm sorry for making you do something you didn't want to."

I nodded, waiting for her to continue. She hesitated briefly before speaking.

"Mark and I discussed this and he was against it, but I know that it doesn't matter if we say this or not, you are not staying. I can see it in your aura, and everyone else gave you their blessings. So, I guess if there's a possibility of this being true, you should know about it."

I tensed, not sure why, and so did Abe. Yeva looked ahead of herself, seeming lost in thought.

"When I was learning about my powers, we crossed paths with an odd man, the only other Spirit user I have ever known. His name was Robert Doru. He, too, had a bondmate who was killed, and it broke him, taking his sanity away. Most of the things he said shouldn't be taken too seriously because of his mental state, but... well, he used to claim that he could bring Strigoi back to life; he had done it once."

Suddenly, the room temperature seemed to drop several degrees. Everyone was dead quiet, like no one was even breathing. My mind could only produce incoherent thoughts of surprise and hope, but my cautiousness was there as well and I knew I needed more details before jumping into conclusions.

"How?" Abe questioned before I could, breaking the trance; he seemed as anxious as I was for the response.

"We don't know for sure. He never told us the mechanics of the restoration. This could be a fairy tale, for all we know." Mark didn't look pleased.

"Is this man still alive?" I asked. To my surprise, Abe was the one to respond.

"Yes, he is. Robert Doru is Victor Dashkov's illegitimate half-brother." Abe knew all about my involvement with Victor's trial and how I had testified against him.

"Do you know where we can find Robert?"

"No, and he won't be too easy to track down. The last I heard he was living as a hermit somewhere. Victor will be the only one to know the exact place."

I almost punched the table in frustration. Victor was rotting away in one of the most secure prisons in the whole world, so talking to him wasn't exactly an option.

Abe seemed to be considering something as he got up and went outside, his phone in his hand. Everyone waited for him to come back, and when he did I could see I wasn't the only one surprised by the huge grin stamped across his face.

"Leave the task of finding Robert to me. I have my resources and sooner rather than later I will come across a clue. But before I get to the bottom of this, Belikov, I want you to be aware that I won't let you kill my daughter, not unless we have proof that she's hopeless."

I looked at him like he was insane.

"What, so we just let her loose?"

"Don't be ridiculous. We'll have to find her and restrain her."

Everyone joined me, staring at Abe and wondering what was his problem.

"Once we have her, she won't be killing anybody and we can perform whatever we need to in order to bring her soul back," he explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Despite of myself, I was starting to overlook the flaws in his logic and find the plan appealing. "I need to know if you would do the honors, Oksana."

Mark was livid. "This is too dangerous! The amount of Spirit involved in something like this will be huge."

I agreed with Mark. "This is too much to ask from someone, Abe. I've seen what Spirit darkness can do. If anyone wishes to do it, they should think about it a lot first. She doesn't even know what needs to be done."

"Well, I guess," he conceded. "But that is a matter for later. For now I need you to agree on leading a group of guardians to capture Rose," he turned to me, with a hard expression, as if he was daring me to say no. "You are the only one who can find her."

So that was it. There was a possibility that there was a possibility to bring the woman I loved back. It seemed like the wildest leap of faith in history, but it also wasn't much of choice. I couldn't ignore this information, not only because Abe wouldn't let me but because I needed to try everything. I could never give up hope. My mind went back to Adrian's words. _The only thing you should be able to do if you loved somebody_ – not looking back, trusting that the bad times would end so you could be together in this life or the next. As the cards had signaled, one way or another, this would come to a closure, and the only thing I sure of was that I'd be by Rose's side soon.

"Yes. Yes, I will do whatever it takes."

* * *

 **A/N.:** Two chapters in two days, a record for me! I'm anxious to get to the point, and I'm sure you are too. I hope you liked Adrian's appearance.

My username comes from a song called _It's Never Over_ , by Arcade Fire (this chapter's soundtrack). I remember reading SB and thinking about Rose's journey, how similar it was to Orpheus', and the idea was stuck with me until now. If you enjoy comic books, Neil Gaiman revisited the myth beautifully in a _Sandman_ 'sspecial.

Anyway, do you have any songs to recommend me? Songs that make you think of VA or your favorite ones?

See ya!


	10. Chapter 10

Abe managed to sort out the details of Rose's capture in lightning speed, arranging for a few guardians to meet on a facility just outside Novosibirsk. There was a steampunk quality to the place he chose, the analogic technology showing a little bit of abandon. I had no idea how he managed to find this place on such short notice, but I didn't think I wanted to know, since it was obviously built for a similar purpose as the one we were using it for: holding a Strigoi captive.

As I faced the small room Rose was supposed to be held in, something stirred inside of me. It was a simple prison cell, not as comfortable as the one which Victor was imprisoned back at Court. The bars were made of silver, undoubtedly infused by Moroi magic. The whole facility was small and easily defendable.

Yesterday, I had met the other ten dhampirs that would help me to bring her back. There were two promised guardians and eight unpromised ones – those were hired by Moroi like Zmey, rich yet not Royal – and some of them I knew from St Basil's, like Marina Borisovna Ishchenko, a petite blond two years older than me, the only female to graduate in her year.

I didn't know if Abe was paying them or if they owed him favors. They didn't seem to mind the crazy mission or to find it weird. I guess if you knew Zmey for long, you learned not to ask questions and just roll with it.

I heard his footsteps behind me, not bothering to turn around as he stopped by my side.

"I still wasn't able to contact Robert Doru," he told me after a while, and I finally looked at his face. He, too, was looking at the cell, his expression wistful but not at all defeated.

"Dashkov answered my request by telling me that the information would die with him," he continued. "A charming fellow. Tell me again, why didn't you kill him when you had the chance?"

I snorted. "I actually have no idea."

He laughed. "He will crack. Between you and me and our contacts in the underworld, we will manage to get something out of him before he wastes away like he deserves."

I stayed in silence, contemplating Abe's words. Like I told Rose before the trial, I knew plenty of people who could handle Victor in prison and make it seem like an accident. Killing him was a desperate measure that would take us nowhere, though, and he was smart enough to figure out that if we wanted the information badly there was no way we could do it.

"The only thing we can offer Victor is freedom," I said, after some consideration. "He made his peace with dying a long time ago, but he still wants to stage a revolution in the Moroi world. The only way he can do this is by getting out of prison."

Abe smiled mysteriously at that. "I like your insight on our enemy's M.O., Belikov."

I shrugged. "I hope it gets us somewhere."

"Oh, it will," his tone was wicked, his shit-eating grin making me nervous.

* * *

On the first day of the mission, we were able to find and kill three Strigoi. We let the fourth go with a message to Rose.

It went against everything I was raised to believe, and I could see that the others weren't comfortable with my choice.

I was letting a killer go, and it was all for nothing because something inside me told me that she already knew I was here.

* * *

Five days into the mission, Strigoi started making themselves scarce. Things were getting strangely calm, as if they could predict our movements somehow.

The streetlights made it hard to see the stars and the club's obnoxious music make my heart thump as if it was chained to the rhythm.

After two nights of this elusiveness I was unable to sleep, paranoia finding its way through my every thought and dream.

* * *

There was something almost ritualistic about the way the bodies moved on the dance floor. The music was loud but pleasant in a weird way; it created a spooky atmosphere, making every conversation seem like a whispered confession. A pleasant masculine voice sang about the death of a disco dancer, the cry of the guitar making the words sound like an ominous prediction.

Considering the reason why I was here, that didn't seem too far of the mark.

This was a human club in the heart of Novosibirsk. It was famous on the underground scene, and most Russian indie bands had either started here or made a point of playing at least one gig on its legendary stage. There were plenty of drugs being consumed and apparently Strigoi found the idea of an easy meal too appealing to be careful: there were five disappearances reported two weeks before we came into town, and this was the place where all victims were seen last.

This wasn't the first time we came here to investigate on the last few days. I could see why the club was so alluring. It was dark inside, and for the sake of keeping a cool aesthetic, there wasn't much light outside either. It would be hell to defend, too: there were multiple exits and people left the dance floor all the time despite the heavy rain outside, making it harder to keep track.

One of the unpromised dhampirs in our group had described the party-goers as apathetic teenagers with a death wish. I understood the reason behind the stereotype, even if I didn't agree with it that much. I only saw young people making questionable life choices.

There were five of us here tonight, including Anton, one of Abe's personal guardians. I exchanged glances with Marina over the crowd, trying to be inconspicuous about it. A curt shake of her head told me that she hadn't seen anything suspicious so far. I did the same with every other person in our group, keeping my guard up as they, too, denied noticing anything out of the ordinary.

As the minutes passed I got more and more tense, waiting for something to happen. The club was starting to smell like sweat and spilled alcohol, the dancing getting more frenetic as the endorphins kicked in. It wasn't the usual grinding of bodies you would find in most nightclubs, but a ceremonial shake of limbs that seemed driven by some kind of mania. The lights played tricks to the eyes and the air was charged with raw energy, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Everyone seemed trapped in their own worlds, not noticing me even if I was standing tall, too still and too quiet, not really making an effort to blend in. Here, there seemed to be no such a thing as a weird behavior. This place made me anxious in a way I had never experienced before; it was like being trapped in one of Adrian's Spirit induced dreams, only without the reassurance of being able to wake up.

Needing to move to stop myself from going crazy, I left my position near the bar to walk around. I could feel as people bumped into me without as much as an apology, the sticky floor making it hard to raise my feet. I was about to call it a night and head to another club when I saw the nearest door opening, a girl heading out to the rain, her back to me, her dress and her hair swirling with the wind―

 _Her hair_.

Gesturing for the others to follow me, I headed outside as quickly as I could, my head spinning, my stomach clenched. The rain had picked up since our arrival, making it hard to see. I was soaked seconds after stepping out of the club, but couldn't care less about my drenched state. The door had led to a deserted alley and I cursed internally _._

I would have recognized that hair anywhere.

She had left alone, and I didn't try to figure out why. The reason didn't matter. I could hear the others behind me even if they were trying to move quietly, thanks to the puddles on the sidewalk. I couldn't blame them; a group of dhampirs this large could hardly go unnoticed by Strigoi, even if we were being stealthy.

I heard a weird noise then, and by everyone's stance, they did too. We stopped, moving coordinately and tried to figure where it had come from. I don't know what hinted me to look up, catching a glimpse of the monster's red-ringed eyes just before he jumped on us.

The seconds of advantage were the difference between life and death as more Strigoi came. I could count six, closing on us from every direction. None of them was Rose. The rain didn't help with the visibility, the ground was slippery, and their superior senses made this the perfect fighting scenario for them.

Without hesitation, I engaged in battle with one that jumped out of the roof. He was young and had been a Moroi, so I had a better grasp of my own strength than he did. I finished him as quickly as I could, moving to take a large male off of Marina's back.

The way the Strigoi were moving around me hinted that something was off. They were eagerly battling my teammates, but paid no attention to me if I didn't cross their immediate paths. Were they following orders? If so, was Rose close by?

She had outsmarted us. She had outsmarted _me_. But this wasn't over, and even though I knew the others were struggling to keep their ground, I had to find her. I locked my gaze with Anton and he nodded; they would be okay and we had our orders.

Knowing that I was probably walking into another trap, I ran to the entrance of the alley. My hair was glued to my face. Thanking the heavens for the adrenaline rush that prevented me from a strike of hypothermia, I ran in the opposite direction from the people gathered at the entrance of the club, making a wild guess that she would want some privacy.

She wanted me to find her. The other Strigoi were just distractions, means to separate me from the rest of the group. Was she afraid of her chances if I didn't meet her alone? Was she afraid of me?

Somehow, I doubted it.

Heading south, I turned around corner after corner, looking for deserted streets. Even if it was late and the rain had just started to shift into a drizzle, the city was buzzing with life; the weekend had just started. I don't know for how long I ran. As soon as I was alone, I tried contacting the others through my earpiece, just to find out that the rain had made it useless. Taking it off and cursing silently, I started paying better attention to my surroundings.

It was like being trapped inside a noir movie. I was in the less prestigious part of town. The streetlamps were few and far between, the houses looked old. I could smell smoke and hear faint sounds coming from behind the doors. I had no idea where to go from here, or how to go back to where I was, for that matter. Wander around was my best option.

The streets converged into a square. I had just started exploring it, thinking of what to do next, when I saw her.

I stopped walking, unable to do anything but stare. She was sitting on the footsteps of a church, as if mocking God or challenging him to turn her into a pile of ashes. That was so typical of Rose it stirred something inside me, something I couldn't name. I guess there was a technicality to the 'sacred ground' thing and only the insides of a temple counted.

Her eyes were closed and there was a faint smile on her lips. Her dress was clinging to her frame: it was white, made of lace patterns and another kind of fabric I couldn't name. Under the hum of the streetlights she seemed untouchable, like we weren't even in the same plane of existence, and I almost pinched myself to see if I was awake.

Almost every trait that singled her out as a Strigoi was hidden from me. There wasn't much she could do about the paleness of her skin, but it was enough to make my chest hurt. It was easy to contemplate all the what-ifs when I couldn't see her fangs.

It was then that I realized I could never have killed her. Not when she looked so much like―

I took a step further and she opened her eyes; I always felt like she could read my mind, and that seemed to be the proof. What I saw there was enough to sober me a little. There wasn't warmth. Her every action seemed calculated. She had known how to play me all along, and I was the one fooling myself, as usual.

When she stood up, quicker than I thought possible, I prepared myself for an attack that never came. Her head was cocked to the side, her smile growing with every step she took in my direction, still not showing her teeth. Her hips swayed in a hypnotic way, every gracious movement seeming effortless, just like it was when she was alive.

Soon she was close enough for me to try an attack, but as I made my first move her voice echoed like a siren's song, and I had no choice but to shipwreck, descending to the depths of her ocean, bare like the day I was born, nothing to cling to, nothing to lose because everything was already lost beyond the point of no return.

"Drop the stake, Dimitri." It was compulsion like I had never seen before. There was no fighting, I could only bend to her will and let her make me her puppet.

I heard the metallic thud of the silver meeting the pavement. Her eyes were the only thing I could see.

"Sleep, Comrade," she ordered and I drifted, my body giving in to gravity.

* * *

 **A.N.:** Hey there!

First, I would like to apologize for the delay AND the cliffhanger. I hope it was worth the reading, though :P

Unfortunately, I can't promise a quick update. I've been knocked off my feet by college and depression, and things are still a bit weird. Sooner rather than later, though, you guys will get to see my take on Strigoi!Rose.

I'm humbled by the amount of people who saved some time to read my story. You guys are awesome! Let me know what you think of the chapter. It was my favorite so far because I got to see an improvement on my writing :)

There are three songs to this chapter, the first being _Climbing up the Walls_ , by Radiohead. I love how it describes paranoia in a frightening way and it gives me chills every time. The second is _Death of a Disco Dancer_ , by The Smiths, and the third is _Seven Devils_ , by Florence + the Machine.


	11. Chapter 11

I could still feel something inside me stir with the sound of her voice as the earth pulled me down. In the back of my mind, I knew that giving in to her would mean my death.

 _Wake up._

Her smile was sad under the sunlight. Or was it the sun? And if it was, had it always been so bright, and so close, and―

I drifted.

 _You must wake up._

Why bother?

Why bother if death had a face like that?

* * *

I opened my eyes, instantly alert. The darkness was so thick it didn't make any difference. Assessing the situation I was in, a few things became clear. The first and most overwhelming was that I was still alive and apparently uninjured. As soon as I realized that, I started testing my muscles. Everything felt fine and I wasn't restrained.

I was also alone.

Getting up from the single bed I was laid on was easy. I tried to ready myself for whatever would happen next, feeling the walls and looking for a light-switch. When the lights were flicked on, the implications of being captured hit me.

The place I was in was small. There wasn't much furniture besides the bed. It was like a bomb shelter with no windows and a military-issued door that could only be opened from the outside (nevertheless, I spent a lot of time and energy trying to force my way out). There were a small bathroom and a fridge with some food and water. I didn't drink or eat anything, even though I was starving. There were no cameras. My clothes were different from the ones I was wearing that night, and it made me wonder how long it took for the compulsion to wear off so I could wake up.

Why hadn't she killed me?

It seemed like she had put a lot of effort into finding a place to keep me. However, I couldn't find a logical reason for being kept captive. If she had wanted me dead, she didn't even have to break a sweat. If she had wanted me turned, she could also have done that already.

I shivered. I couldn't give in to hopelessness. I hadn't failed, not yet.

There wasn't much to do so I waited by the door for her return, without turning the lights off. With her superior senses, I would be the only one affected by the darkness.

Would she come back here? Probably. Unless making me wait in a cage was her twisted way of finishing me off, leaving me alone to descend into madness.

* * *

I didn't know how long it took for that door to open. Rose used to say I could win a staring contest against a statue. It surely had felt like it while I waited by the door, without moving or thinking too much.

When she came in, I didn't allow myself some time to acknowledge her identity. I couldn't repeat the same mistake twice, so I made my move, going for her legs in the hopes of destabilizing her. She blocked me easily, though, and closed the door in lightning speed. I couldn't see anything outside. She fought with grace, like my attacks were nothing, seeming to predict my every move. Her style was a bit off, and she surprised me more than once with moves I hadn't taught her; it made me wonder what else she had learned so far. Unlike every other young Strigoi I've battled before, she was cautious and kept her ground better than me, even if I wasn't letting myself be ruled by my feelings this time. Nothing could make me hold back.

"Dimitri," she breathed against my chest after trying to pin me down on the bed. I didn't answer, looking for a way to turn her over, but she didn't waste a second throwing me back on the mattress with an exasperated sigh, and holding me in a way that made it impossible to move. She beat me so easily it seemed like she had been humoring me the whole time and then got sick of playing games.

"Dimitri! Comrade," a chill ran down my spine as I heard the nickname rolling off of her tongue, "It's over. Don't hurt yourself," she mocked as I continued struggling, even if the rational part of my brain knew that she was right. There was no escaping her grip, "if I have to restrain you, I will. It's your choice, really. I like the idea of you tied to the bed." The hunger in her voice surprised me, an abrupt change in her stance, and I finally looked at her face – a glutton for punishment, needing to find something there that didn't exist anymore.

I let myself notice her chiseled features, her pale skin, her dark hair showering over my shoulders as she looked into my eyes with an expression I had never seen her wear before. I wondered if it was wishful thinking, but if I looked long enough into her eyes I could see something stirring underneath, something nameless and dangerous that called for me.

We were both breathless, and I couldn't tell whether it was from the battle or the proximity. Even if I knew this was wrong, I couldn't be more aware of how our bodies were intertwined, touching almost everywhere possible. How many times had we found ourselves in this position? How many times had I broken the tension between us, denying myself any kind of intimate thought or touch? I could do this, I could look away. I had a thousand new reasons to do so, adding on top of an already long list.

As I turned my head to the side, looking for fresh air, I heard her sigh, and the familiarity of it all made me want to punch something.

"Do you remember, back at the Academy," she said after a while, and I could hear a smile in her voice. I was looking anywhere but her face, "when the darkness took me over and I tried to kill Jesse? You stopped me and told me that I didn't have a choice, but if I behaved you would let me go."

I scoffed, and she sounded pleased with herself for getting a reaction out of me.

"You can't get out of here, I'm sure you know that by now. If you promise me to stop fighting, I'll let you go."

After a while, I nodded, because I needed space to think clearly about whatever the hell was going on right now. I could think of a way to escape later, taking her with me. She made good with her side of the bargain, letting me breathe and sitting on the floor, just beside the bed. I sat down as well, massaging my limbs to activate the blood circulation, staring at a point just above her head, and waiting for something to happen.

We stayed in silence for a long while, though, a charged stillness that made me much more aware of her eyes sweeping over me.

"What do you want from me?" I questioned finally, and my tone was much less accusatory than I thought it would be. I was curious, enticed by her every action – even if I would never admit it to anyone but myself. When I spoke, she closed her eyes.

"I wanted for you to keep away from me," she declared, smiling, still not showing her teeth. For the first time, I noticed how off that smile was. Even though it could pass as amused or sad, it was _empty_. "But you didn't respect my wishes, so now both of us need to deal with the consequences." I waited. Her tone was pointed and ironic as she continued, "You see, Comrade, life's been good, but when it comes to you everything is messy and unclear."

I almost laughed humorlessly to that, because I could relate to some extension. "I knew you were after me with a bunch of other guys. When I imagined being hunted down you were always alone, like the broody antisocial god you are, so you can think of my surprise when I heard there were at least five other dhampirs with you. I had to do something quickly before you got hurt by messing with the wrong people. Capturing you gives me time." She shrugged. All these words stringed together resembled something Rose would say, but her tone, too, was off, lacking something that was essentially her.

"You could also let me go," I said bluntly.

"Not an option," it was like she was trying to sound playful, but hearing her voice still felt like swallowing cement. "You came here for something, Dimitri, and I'll give you something, even if it's not what you expected."

That sentenced cleared some things out. "You're not keeping me here to kill me."

Her eyes bore into mine. "Why would I capture you before killing you? That's downright stupid."

"Where are we, exactly?"

"Far from your friends," she mocked. "Also, now that I mentioned it, who are they? Were you so afraid of me you couldn't act alone and had to bring a SWAT team with you?"

I could have kept quiet. I didn't want to answer her questions. I was aware of the fact that she could force me to tell her the truth, though, and it was better to be able to control the information I gave her than letting her take whatever she wanted from me.

"I didn't know where you were, so I needed help tracking you down. Torturing a Strigoi alone is pretty difficult." It wasn't a lie as much as it was an omission.

"I guess you are not invincible after all."

I looked down, trying to hide how much her words had affected me.

"I never said I was."

"I know, but that didn't stop me from thinking you were. You could do no wrong in my eyes." Her tone was wistful. She didn't have to say anything else. We were quiet for some time after that, and I kept swallowing words until it was hard to breathe.

I knew I wasn't invincible. If I was, she would be alive.

"Why did you come here?" I asked before I could stop myself.

"Because I had nowhere else to go," she stated without elaborating.

"The Strigoi that… turned you, is he here?"

"Yes. He offered me an opportunity and now we work for the same boss. Her name is Galina. I take it you know her."

I almost gasped. Could it be my old mentor? I had heard about her turning a while ago and tried to follow Court's reports about her, but they had lost track for a while now. _This has to be a fucking joke_.

"She's a pain in the ass," Rose continued, unaware of my reaction, "but she won't be in charge for too long." She looked at me then, seeming a little… hesitant? Maybe. I had no idea what to think of that, "You could be by my side when I rise to power, Comrade. Can you imagine what we could do together?"

I could, and thinking about it made me get up and head for the door in a silly attempt to do something, _anything_ , to escape from this place. She intercepted me in two steps, holding my arms. "Be reasonable," her words sounded like a warning.

 _She wants to turn you. She didn't do it yet, but she wants to_. I had to get the hell out of here. There was no escaping her iron grip, though.

"Are you afraid of fighting me?" I tried to use her old temper against her. It made her unpredictable but also much more reckless.

"Being Awakened gives everything a new perspective, Dimitri. It's like being inside one of Tarantino's movies: bloodshed, great dialogues," she was still trying to make jokes, but her voice was much colder than before.

"I would rather _die_. The Rose I knew would, too. The Rose I knew would never rejoice in killing someone. The Rose I knew would never take her enemies down using _compulsion_ ," I said it like it was a bad word, still trying to work with her anger.

I could see she was starting to get pissed. It wasn't endearing, as it used to be when we were back at the Academy. It was frightening. "The Rose you knew is right in front of you, and wants really badly to punch you in the face but thinks it's a shame to damage such beauty. She's willing to break a bone or two to prove a point, though."

I scoffed again, ignoring the neon billboard in my mind warning me to back off. "The Rose I knew is dead."

She snapped and launched herself at me, throwing me to the floor so fast I couldn't process her movements. Soon enough everything hurt and I was pinned down again, but there was no sign of the early playfulness in her eyes as she looked down on me, "I'm myself but free, which is good, because I was pretty tired of living the way everyone expected me to. Even you, with your morals, always denying yourself to me because it was 'the right thing to do'. We both were nothing but unaware slaves, Dimitri, putting ourselves second to protect people who don't deserve our sacrifice."

In the lifetime contained in the past few months, I saw Rose change constantly. She matured, grieved, loved and hated under my eyes. That fire within her always blazing, but now it was dead, leaving nothing but ashes behind.

"I would never forgive you," I said. "If you turned me, I would hate you forever."

"Love me, hate me, there's no middle ground, Comrade, there never was. You'll either want me or not, but you'll be forever with me. I can live with that."

"What about Lissa?" The question slipped me before I could really think about it. She laughed, unamused.

"Hypocrisy doesn't suit you. If you care so much about her, why did you leave her alone?"

I didn't answer, waiting for something, anything, to wake inside her with the mention of her best friend's name. There was nothing, though, and I knew that if she had no feelings left for the person who saved her life, I was already lost.

"I'm sorry," I said, finally, also without thinking about it first. Her rage seemed to fuel, and she scoffed, guessing the meaning of my apology.

"Of course you are. You are probably feeling guilty as shit for surviving, aren't you? It's just like you, patronizing me after I saved your fucking life. News flash, Comrade, I've known for a while that my actions have consequences and I went back into that cave knowing very well what could happen." She shifted above me, leaning down. I didn't guess her intentions before it was too late.

It began awkwardly, taking me by surprise, but soon enough I was kissing her back. Like with the compulsion, my body responded to her without my permission, my mind going blank with her scent, my hands wanting to roam over her body as soon as her lips touched mine. It was primal, giving in to every hidden desire. As her tongue explored my mouth, my teeth ravaged hers; her hips pushing onto me were the only proof I needed that Heaven existed because this, right now, could only be Hell.

When she broke away from the kiss, her pupils dilated with desire, her every action making my stomach clench with need, the cruelty of the tragedy I was trapped in hit me like a sledgehammer to the head. How can you stop loving someone when they are gone, but right in front of you at the same time? How could I be with her, wanting her so much it was physically painful, and see her as a monster? Damn the differences, damn the promises, how could I get over Rose Hathaway when my world begins and ends at the tip of her tongue?

Even back at the Academy, my self-control was smashed into smithereens every time our lips touched. I would always crumble to her feet when we kissed, and that's why I avoided it at all costs. Back then, it was a mix of desire and love, something primal and sublime. What was it now that made her my gravitating center? It wasn't the same, but it wasn't different either. I didn't know how to save her, but I knew she was still there, somehow.

"Do I look dead to you, Dimitri? Do I _feel_ dead to you?" Her tone was fierce. "You can say you are sorry as much as you want but that doesn't change the fact that I'm here, that I never left."

To some extent, it was true. It was almost like she was deliberately acting like nothing ever happened. What was she trying to prove? "Why haven't you changed me yet?"

" _Because I don't need you_. I'll do what I have to do and only then I'll make you mine."

"You can try, but when I said I'd rather die I meant it," I tried to calm myself.

"I'll come back here all the time. You won't have enough time to try anything. If you do, that will only make me Awaken you faster, so I suggest you eat and behave. I wasn't kidding about tying you to the bed. I want you to be comfortable, though."

"I'm hardly comfortable," I retorted.

"Oh, is that so?" She ground her hips into mine one more time and grinned maliciously as she felt my body answering. Our early argument was fueling something inside me, and the fact that I could still feel her kiss lingering in my mouth didn't make it any easier. She leaned down again, this time slowly, deliberately, so I could guess her every move and crave for her in anticipation. It was like she was offering me a chance to turn away, but I couldn't, and she knew that.

It got more and more intimate as she covered every inch between us, looking me in the eyes, making it clear that she wanted me and silently promising things that frightened and excited me to no end. She was so close and so distant that I wondered if I would reach for her if my hands weren't trapped.

There was a loud bang on the door that made me jump. She sighed, annoyed.

"Who is that?" I asked her.

"I have to go now, but remember what I told you. I'll bring you some Westerns and soon enough it will feel like home." I gave a sarcastic snort and she got up gracefully. "Goodbye, Comrade."

I was still lying on the floor when she left me alone with my thoughts. It was over as quickly as it had begun, and there were no answers, only more and more questions piling up behind me. Who was the person at the door? Why was Rose so hesitant to turn me?

And more importantly, how the hell would I get out of here, taking her with me?

* * *

 **A.N.:** Thanks for the support, it means the world to me! I hope you liked the chapter.

This chapter has two songs, _Obstacle 1_ by Interpol and _Combat lover_ by Nina Kinert. Also, I made a playlist on Spotify with every song so far and will add more as the fic continues. Check it out, if you'd like.

(user/ohorpheuss/playlist/2hCHyuPUOTV2hEvxOnPgSt)


	12. Chapter 12

**M-Rated for violence, sexual content, blood, and language. Proceed carefully if you wish to avoid those things.**

 _This chapter's song is_ Me and the Devil _, by Soap &Skin._

* * *

When I was younger, I had never given language much thought.

I knew how to use words, how to articulate them in order to get what I wanted. I could make a person respect me, fear me, or even look up to me, choosing carefully how to deliver my messages. Words were useful tools, and that was something I had learned from a very early age. Sometimes, they were weapons ― turning your body into an instrument of hate was easy, after all. It was being kind that took some effort, and that's why expressing my feelings, _the good ones_ , was an entirely different matter.

My mother tongue was often seen as harsh by others, the syllables sounding rough around the edges, crude to the ears of those who were used to vowels and round words. I could only feel in Russian, though. When I moved to the States, I had missed the comfort of a language I owned. No matter how many times I tried, English would always sound shallow when it came out of my mouth. As time passed, though, I learned how to see the poetry that was lost in translation ― words that meant different things, idioms that came attached to a different culture, a culture you had to fully experience in order to understand.

For example, there were bags under my eyes.

The dark shadows were called something else in Russian, but naming them bags sounded right because bags were made to hold things, and inside mine, there were many sleepless nights, and inside those, there were many regrets and unspeakable thoughts. They were heavy, and my eyes were struggling to carry that weight.

Those eyes, brown and boring but _thankheavensnothinglikemyfather's,_ were staring back at me as if they belonged to someone else. Someone tired.

I ran my left hand through the shallow beard that had started growing from my chin. There were no blades here, and therefore no way to shave ― I tried not to think of the reason behind Rose's choice to leave me without anything I could turn into a weapon. My hair was disheveled from sleep, the also brown, also boring curls pointing everywhere. I let myself notice the dryness of my skin and every little imperfection that marred my face. I had always put an effort into looking the best I could; my mother had taught me that. No one takes you seriously, and the world has no time for you if you look like shit.

I sighed, taking my eyes from the reflection in the mirror, leaning down so I could wash my face. Rose hadn't come back yet. I could say for sure that roughly seventy-two hours had passed since the last time I saw her face. I was counting the days by pacing around the room, trying ― failing ― to break free, eating something to keep myself strong enough to fight, and trying ― failing ― to get some sleep. My brain running a thousand miles per hour; I didn't know what was taking her so long. I didn't know anything, and that made me anxious because I wasn't used to being out of the loop. She knew me well enough to toy with that side of me, and it made me wonder if letting her come so far into my life had been a mistake, a vulnerability I couldn't afford.

I splashed more water on my face. _No_. I couldn't go down that path. I did what I did because I loved her, and I didn't regret it, not in a million years. It had only been three days, after all. I could wait longer than that. It gave me time to think.

Without looking back in the mirror, I headed to the fridge to get some water. The fridge was close to the bathroom, and the bathroom was close to the bed, and the room felt like a fucking cage ― it _was_ a cage, for God's sake ― and I hated being trapped. I hated being trapped, I needed to get out of this place, _but what about Rose_? She had to come with me somehow. I couldn't leave her behind. Not now not after everything that had happened, because I had to save her one way or another. That's why I left. I couldn't give up on her now - she wouldn't have given up on me. _She'd never have given up on me._ I needed to be strong for her, but I needed to get out of this place but―

I threw the cup to the wall, splashing water all over the furniture. The cup was made of plastic, so it didn't break, which did little to satisfy my frustration.

 _Breathe. In, out. Breathe._ Fighting the urge to scream I sat down on the bed, folding my legs beneath me and staring straight ahead.

 _Breathe. In, out. Breathe._

I was in control of myself.

 _Breathe. In, out. Breathe._

I would find a way to get out of here.

 _Breathe. In, out. Breathe._

I had to be patient.

* * *

When the door opened, I didn't charge for it like last time, trying to pay attention and gather information, the methodic side of me helping to keep myself controlled.

I had been too long without seeing her face, it seemed, because my eyes automatically swept through her as she came in. Rose was wearing a long cotton dress. It was blue, clinging to her frame in a way that made it clear there was nothing beneath it, but loose enough that the wind could play with it, the draft entering through the open door making it fly around her like an aura― _focus, Dimitri. Her eyes, the paleness of her skin. This is not Rose._

I looked over her shoulder. Behind her, all I could see was complete darkness. We were underground _. A basement, maybe?_

"Hey there, comrade," she greeted, smiling, and I felt myself being pulled by her magnetism again. _Breathe. In, out. This is not Rose_. "How's it been?"

It took me a while to notice she was carrying some stuff, grocery bags. She opened the fridge, filling it with fresh food and water. Once she was done, she came closer to me, offering me something. It took me a while to understand what it was: books. _Westerns._ She was keeping her promise.

I took them automatically, even if my rational side knew I should probably just ignore her actions. The titles were familiar, even the ones I had never read before. I resisted the urge to roam over them, setting them aside and looking up at her again without saying a word.

"It took me longer than I thought it would to come back here," she said, noncommittally, "I had some stuff to do, and Galina wanted it done promptly. Unfortunately, I can't ignore her direct orders, or it would raise suspicion," she rolled her eyes. "If she were as much of a bitch while training you as she is now, I can understand how you became a god. The woman is a dictator."

I didn't answer. I knew my face was blank, devoid of any emotion, and soon enough her smile faded and her expression started to mirror mine, blanking as well. It didn't make much difference. Smiling or not, there was no way to know what was going through her head.

Did Galina know I was here? Was Rose keeping me as a secret? If so, who was the person helping her to hold me here, the person who had knocked on the door last time?

She came to me slowly, like a wild cat that could have been studying its prey or pacing around lazily to find somewhere to settle. Her eyes left mine, trailing down my body, and I tried to ignore the way I felt myself responding to her gaze, so aware of every little sensation that the softest touch would have sent me into a cardiac arrest.

She stopped right in front of me, bending her back to bring her face closer to mine. "Aren't you going to talk to me?"

I held my breath, fighting for every last shred of control I could muster, keeping my guardian mask in place and staying silent.

She smiled and bit her lips. It was the first glimpse of her fangs I'd had, and it was enough to sober me up a little. It felt calculated, though. _What did she mean by that?_ "I guess it's going to be a monologue, then."

She tapped her chin with her fingers, straightening her back and wandering aimlessly around the room. "You had some questions the first time I came here. Questions about the reasons behind my choices. I gave them much thought in the past few days and came to the conclusion that I can tell you a thing or two. You only have to ask, comrade, and I'll answer as honestly as I can."

She knew how to play me, how to use my own curiosity against me. She'd never reveal important information willingly, though, so I kept my ground, staying silent. By asking her anything, I would only be giving her a small victory, showing how much power she had over me.

Rose smirked at my silence, looking unsurprised by my reaction. "No questions, huh? Well, you know I can't stay silent for long, being the chatty little shit I am," she said, voice full of mirth, "I could tell you about my day, but I made a few things I think you wouldn't approve of, so I'm going to tell you a tale about forbidden love, hoping that you can learn a lesson from it."

She came to a full stop, leaning against the wall right in front of me. Something caught her eye, and when she looked down, she found the plastic cup I had thrown earlier. Her smirk was hard to miss, and she seemed self-satisfied as she bent down to pick it up, playing with the cup, rolling it in her hands.

"Once upon a time," her voice was low and steady, "in the faraway land of freedom called America, a girl and a guy met. The guy was tall, dark and handsome, and the girl had a hard time keeping away from him. They hated each other at first, to be honest, and had to resign themselves to each other's company. There was a spark of something, though, and it was enough that neither of them could deny it. They tried to, but soon enough, that spark turned into an inferno, consuming everything and everyone that stood too close to it."

I was holding my breath the whole time, unable to say anything. I knew exactly what this was leading to, the intention behind her so-called "tale,", but I couldn't say anything. Hell, I couldn't even look away from her. I assumed that was her goal; to have me as a captive audience to her fable. The way she spoke, so unlike her at first, not as spontaneous as she used to be, made me cringe in both expectation and fear. She was doing a good job of controlling her reckless side, which meant she'd do anything in her power to get what she wanted.

"They had other priorities," she continued. "The girl wanted to become the best fighter she could be in order to protect her best friend, and the guy wanted to keep his stellar career and guard one of the most important Royals in the Moroi world. Their goals in life clashed, you see, because their charge happened to be the same person, and they couldn't work on the tension building between them because a life depended on their professionalism. They needed to be there for their charge, after all, not jumping each other's bones. Troubles came, and troubles went, but nothing could make them want each other any less. They did a good job trying, overcoming desire and lust, but one day everything changed."

Her breathing was heavy by the time she started speaking again, and a chill ran down my spine at the sound of her voice, almost whispered but filled with a need that mirrored my own. _This is not Rose. You have to focus._

"It all happened in a cabin in the woods. The air was chilly, so he lit the fireplace. She was half-crazed, bloodlust taking her every thought, darkness filling her soul. He treated her battle wounds and made her calm down, pinning her to the bed at first but holding her in his arms right after he felt her coming to her senses. They couldn't help it anymore. They kissed, abandoning every thought of right and wrong.

"She still remembers the taste of his mouth and how good a kisser he is. She still remembers his hands and the way they grabbed her, caressed her, and broke her into pieces. His lips on her neck, licking and sucking and biting, and sending a flash of heat right between her thighs where she could feel herself getting wetter and wetter. She remembers when his mouth found her nipples and how she moaned out loud as he sucked them hard, cupping her ass and keeping her close. The way he groaned in response as her hands trailed up his chest, taking his shirt off. How he had wanted that as much as she did."

I was spellbound, feeling my control slipping between my fingers with every word that left her mouth. She didn't even have to leave the wall she was standing against to paint an image in my head, bringing back memories I had tried my best to bury after I'd lost her.

"As they got naked, she knew she wanted him to bury himself inside her because nothing else would free her from that need, that urge… his hand stroked her in a place she didn't know existed before, and she couldn't say anything because he made her forget how to fucking speak. And then she came for the first time, all over his hand, and sucked his middle finger to taste what he had done to her.

"And then she was on her back, lying on the bed and looking at his perfect body looming over hers, feeling him pressed against her in a way that made her want more. And he gave her more. He sunk inside her, fucking her senseless until they both came. She misses the way it felt, having him there, where he belonged. It's like there's something missing since that day, something only he can give her."

 _This is not Rose_ , I tried to convince myself, unsuccessfully. _She may look like her, talk like her, and even have her memories, but this is_ not _Rose._

"I can hear you thinking, comrade," she said, her eyes still on mine, "so why don't you tell me what you have in mind?"

The obvious bulge in my pants was all the answer she needed. She came closer to me, deliberately swinging her hips, and it only fueled my arousal. _This is not Rose._

I hadn't realized I spoke the last part out loud until I saw her smirk. "Am I not? Are you sure of that?"

She took both of my hands in hers, sitting down on my lap, and ground herself against me like she'd done the first time she came here, never breaking eye contact. I hissed, protesting against the way she was teasing me, the lucid part of my brain screaming for me to stop her as my body claimed for more. "I want you to kiss me, Dimitri."

I had enough presence of spirit to shove her away from me and bark a "No" that felt more like a pledge than an order. She tried to sit on my lap again, but I quickly stood up, going as far away from her as possible in the limited space.

She chased me, trying to touch me, but I held her at an arm's distance to keep her away from me. That elicited a violent response from her; she shoved my hands away, and tried to pin me to the wall, unsuccessfully. I got to her first, kneeing her stomach, and soon enough she was trapped, both of her hands secure above her head, my body weighing on hers so she couldn't move, the force of the blow knocking the air out of both of our lungs. Her expression went from mad to aroused in a flash, and she smirked at me again, making me growl.

"I love it when you do that," she said, breathless.

I tried my best to look away from her. The way our bodies were intertwined was too distracting, but I couldn't let her go because I knew she'd try again. She'd try as many times as it took for my will to crumble because that was how she was. This would never end, as long as I was her prisoner.

Looking right into my eyes, she demanded again "Kiss me." I didn't answer, afraid that my voice wouldn't be steady enough. The only thing I had, the only thing I'd ever had when it came to Rose, was my willpower. If she took that away from me, I'd be lost to her forever.

"Dimitri, I need you to kiss me. _Please_ ," she begged, and I couldn't help it. I obliged ― because I wanted this to be over. I should have known she'd want more. I should have known _I_ 'd want more. I should have known that when I closed my eyes, that kiss would feel like the ones we'd shared when she was alive; the shape of her lips was the same, her hair was still as soft as I remembered, and her heart was still beating, so loud I could feel its rhythm in my bones.

When she took me to bed, I just let her. When her lips trailed down my neck, I let her. And when her fangs sank into my skin, surprising me enough that I tried to fight to get her off, that was the point of no return. Because of course, she had secured me before the bite so I wouldn't be able to free myself from her grip. And then, soon enough, I didn't want to fight anymore, because the bliss that filled my body made me close my eyes and forget where I was.

I wasn't a stranger to drugs. In my novice years, whenever things got ugly at home, I'd get out and find a way to get trashed. It got bad for a while, and my mother almost kicked me out of the house, but I was able to overcome my problems. I had been mostly clean ever since I received my promise mark, more so after I lost Ivan.

A vampire bite was something I had never experienced because I knew what it could do to a person. But of course Rose would be my exception. This sensation, her lips caressing my neck, the endorphins hitting my bloodstream… it was better than anything I had ever used; it felt better than almost anything I ever did.

And then it was over. The high ended too soon, and I knew I wanted to feel like that again. I knew the drug-induced bliss was her last blow against my self-control. I opened my eyes to see her looking at me, my blood dripping from her lips and staining her dress, the sheets, my shirt, my love. Nothing would come out of this mess clean.

She smiled at me, showing her fangs and licking her lips. For the first time in my life too tired to fight, I let her do whatever she wanted with me.

* * *

 **A. N.:** Hey there! I'm alive!

Jokes aside, my semester is over and life's good! Now I can fully commit myself to writing (or procrastinating, depends on how you see it).

I hope this chapter was worth the took me a while to get it right, so I'd love to know your opinion. Please, review if you have the time! If you don't, thanks for reading

Thank you for sticking with me and the emotional rollercoaster this fic became. You guys rock! And a huge thank you to my beta, strangemind92, for putting up with me for so long. Go read her stories, she rocks. Also, shoutout to Swimming the Same Deep Waters for making this chapter that much better. If you missed it, Swimming and I wrote a piece together for the VA Halloween compilation and it's amazing. Check it out, if you'd like. There are plenty of great stories in there, from other amazing authors.


	13. Chapter 13

I'd stopped playing make-believe long before my father left.

Life often got tough. I was raised to deal with pain in an objective way—ignoring the feelings I couldn't deal with at the moment, working on the now. Aside from my books, escapism as a coping mechanism never held much appeal to me. Not until now.

Before I'd even noticed, I'd started pretending.

Sometimes Rose was there, sometimes she wasn't. That's how time passed. Much like my own, twisted version of the sun—which, objectively, didn't make any sense, since the one thing I could be sure of is that she came to see me at night—, I knew she would come back, and that was how I counted my days.

We fought a lot in the beginning. I didn't know what was happening on the outside world; she made sure not to answer any of my most daring questions about her routine. Those conversations often led to arguments that would end with her storming out of the room and disappearing for some time. I couldn't afford her absence, so after a while I stopped questioning her so she'd stay longer and come back more often.

By pretending I didn't see the little differences, it was much easier to ignore them, until there came a day when I almost couldn't notice them anymore. She caught onto my mood, telling me the things she knew I wanted to hear, and together we created a house of cards for us to live in.

And then there was the bite.

You grow up learning that venom can severely damage, or even kill a man. You don't expect it to feel _good_ when it hits your veins. You don't expect for it to come from the mouth of the woman you love—it belongs to creatures that crawl and slide, to nightmares.

My hair, never too long for a guy's, grew longer by the day and could now hide the forming scars. I tried not to dwell on what that meant. It made me remember how relieved I was by the fact that Rose's death wouldn't be permanently marked on my skin; how ironic it was that all I had to do now was look at the right side of my neck, slightly above my shoulder blades, to see that I had failed.

In the back of my head, that little, familiar voice told me I was but a shadow of the man I once had been. The only thing that could silence it was the pure bliss of the bite. I didn't know the chemistry of pleasure; it didn't matter. Nothing did after the fangs sank in.

In my arrogance, I told myself I could live without it, but every time Rose stayed away for too long, I'd feel the telltale signs of a drug withdrawal. After a while I had to acknowledge it: I was addicted, and not only to the bite. What came after it also held me as much prisoner as the military-issued doors.

Rose's body on mine, her hands grabbing me, pushing me, tearing me to pieces and putting me together again, her hips, her lips, her oaths, murmured on my ear or screamed at the ceiling—she was with me at last. My own personal Nero, holding a match over gasoline and watching Rome burn.

To help with the fake sense of normalcy she brought me more and more Westerns. The books were the only way I could keep myself occupied when she wasn't with me, but I was a fast reader and would run out of options more quickly than she could bring them. That made me start rereading my favorites, an old habit I couldn't kill.

To Rose, reading things once was torturous enough, and she'd always tease me about it back at the Academy. Now she never said anything about my reading habits, even though she kept throwing sarcastic comments at me every once in a while about one thing or the other. It was weird for her to ignore what was once one of her favorite ways of driving me mad, so I asked her about it one day.

"When I came here" she said, after a moment of silence, "I knew I had to learn how to speak Russian somehow. So I guessed reading was as good a way to practice as any. I still can't understand much, but at least now I know how that freaky alphabet of yours works."

After that, we started speaking Russian every now and then. Her accent was heavy, but she had a good grasp of the language for someone who had just started learning. She had a funny way of mixing formal and informal, something that undoubtedly came from her multiple references—the things she learned from the streets mixed with an unexpected eruditeness. Sometimes, despite her getting better by the day, I would hear her mutter "fuck declensions" or "what do they need that many pronouns for."

I had once fantasized about teaching her and talking to her in my mother tongue. I guess life had a funny way of making my wishes come true.

* * *

I looked like a modern-day lumberjack. That, or a really threatening hipster.

My beard had grown insanely fast. I was almost considering breaking the mirror and using one of the shards as a blade so I could shave. Sometimes, Rose would caress my beard wistfully, but she never said anything about it. I wondered if she liked seeing my disheveled state.

After getting out of a long bath, I headed towards the fridge to get something to eat. As I was about to open the refrigerator, I heard a noise coming from the door, and stopped cold, my hand still reaching for the handle. My blood rushed in a mix of excitement and anxiety, and I felt my palms sweat.

To my surprise, though, it wasn't Rose who came in.

A man that couldn't be older than twenty-two walked into the room, closing the door behind him with a low click. He was smaller than me, his blonde curls cascading over his shoulders, giving him an air of innocence that made him seem almost angelic. His red-ringed eyes and pale complexion left no doubt to what he was, though, even before he smiled wickedly at me, showing his fangs and making the hairs at the back of my neck stand up.

I knew that smile. It was the last thing I'd seen before the end of it all. His lips, tainted by blood; life drained from my lover's veins.

For a moment, it was like nothing but his suffering could bring me peace. My intentions upon seeing his face were cruel, almost animalistic, and I couldn't even feel ashamed for it. I wanted him to beg for his death. I wanted him to feel sorry for existing. To break him down piece by piece so he would know how I'd felt when he took everything away from me in that cave.

Another cliché Rose made me understand: true hate can only come from love.

"Long time, no see," Nathan said nonchalantly, still smiling.

I was surprised at seeing the more calculating side of me taking control after hearing his voice. I was unarmed and alone, so my only possible action was finding a makeshift weapon with which I could attack him. I needed time to think of my options, so there was only one thing I could do: stall.

"What are you doing here? Where's Rose?" I asked, trying to sound as if I was interested in his answer. It would take me too long to get to the mirror and break it. The bed's legs were also not an option—they were too thick for me to break with a single blow.

"Your owner is away, but don't worry, little lap dog," I wanted nothing more than to wipe that fucking grin from his face, "I'll keep you company while you wait for her.

I didn't answer. After a few seconds of silence his expression turned into one of mock hurt.

"How rude of you, Belikov. You should treat your guests with more respect," he said, his eyes dancing when he noticed my clenched fists. "I guess we could say I'm more of your jailer, actually, but that doesn't mean there have to be any hard feelings between us."

I snorted.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" He examined his nails, seeming unpreoccupied, like he wasn't afraid of me. I guess he didn't think an unarmed dhampir could do much damage. That or he was bored and wanted me to try. If his goal was to piss me off, he sure as hell was succeeding. "How did you get Rose to become so obsessed with you? The only ways I can think of are a bit unethical for a teacher."

"I'm not talking ethics with a Strigoi."

"Of course you won't," he laughed humorlessly. "Never mind the fact that, right now, you're nothing but a Strigoi's bloodwhore. I'm pretty sure the last thing you do when Rose comes around is discussing ethics."

I ignored his words, paying attention to his face and what was brewing underneath his nonchalant expression. He looked… almost jealous.

"You're the one who waits for her when she is here, aren't you?" Understanding hit me like a bolt of lightning.

He flashed me a cold smile that made the hairs at the back of my neck stand up. Then his eyes met mine as he started walking closer to me, his movements almost gracious.

"I always knew Rose would make for an amazing Strigoi," he started saying in a low voice. "She's driven, a quick-study. Oh, Dimitri, you should have been there when I took her to feed for the first time! Three teenagers camping - she didn't even hesitate. She killed them slowly, enjoying their screaming just as much as I was. Of course it was a mess, the young ones always get blood everywhere. But I've never seen anyone look so beautiful in red."

A memory of another lifetime flashed quickly through my mind. Rose and I, sitting at a rooftop, stealing a few moments away from the rest of the world. There was snow everywhere and she was smiling sadly at me, ready to give up on our love so I could have the chance of starting a family. She was wearing red, and as the sun rays played with the patterns in her dress, it made her look as if she was on fire.

I shook the intrusive thoughts away, focusing on Nathan getting closer to me by the second.

"She was made for greatness, Belikov. She was never meant to be with you, playing house and wasting away guarding some old Moroi, trying to live on minimum wage. I can see in your eyes that you hate me, but you should thank me, really. She's surrounded by luxury now, the whole world at her fingertips. She's fed on royalty, felt their magic flow through her like an elixir. Your blood is nothing compared to that. I can give her much more than your cheap thrills."

"I'm sure making you wait outside as she sees someone else means that she can't live without you," it took all of my strength to form a coherent response and not jump on him for what he was suggesting.

"Oh, she can," I could feel his breath on my face as he came even closer to me, his eyes never leaving mine, "and that's your mistake, Belikov. Believing she can't live without _you_."

I ignored his snarky comment, focusing on his weak spots and the way with which he held himself. Despite being a Moroi in his previous life, I knew he was a strong fighter, but that didn't scare me. I would do what I couldn't the day Rose was turned. I would bring him down.

I had never moved so fast in my life, but somehow he was ready for me, blocking my punch before it could make contact with his face. I didn't dwell on it though, and kept my attacks coming.

When the first blow hit him, successfully wiping that fucking smirk off his face, he came down on me harder than before. I was ready for that, though, and started using his rage in my favour. His attacks became a little sloppier, and even though he recovered fast, sometimes I managed to be faster.

The Strigoi never fought thinking they would lose. The chances that they would were pretty small, after all, but that could also be used against them. I clung to my mortality, to what made me who I was, as he clung to his ego. I didn't feel pain as his punch broke my nose. I didn't phase when his kick hit my ribs. Every time one of his blows hit me, I came back for more, and as my blows hit him, I could feel his self-assurance waver.

Seizing an opportunity after he tried going for my throat—but left his right side weak in the process—I used my weight in my favour and shoved him to the closet, breaking the door with the force of my blow. I took one of the wooden shards and stabbed him in the stomach, making him scream and shove me away with so much force that I almost flew to the opposite side of the room. Before I could get up, though, he was already above me, his hands closing over my throat as I tried fighting his iron grip, unable to breath. And then he was gone.

A high-pitched noise came from the other side of the room, and I focused on getting up to see my new opponent. I couldn't do anything but cough, though, my throat hurting like hell. After a few seconds that felt like years, I managed to prop myself up to a seated position, and what I saw made the blood in my veins freeze.

It was like watching two wild animals measuring each other up. I was scared of Rose for the first time since I found her at the footsteps of that church in Novosibirsk. I couldn't see a trace of humanity in her eyes, not a lingering feeling beneath the surface. She gazed down at Nathan, who was smiling at her like a maniac, his lips swollen and his face a bloodied mess. I knew the most severe wounds hadn't come from our fight, but had no idea how Rose managed to get him in that state in less than a minute.

"I'm not going to wait for you if you stay with him," Nathan said, spitting a little blood on the floor. The emotionless in her eyes became disgust as she looked over his beaten up form.

"You should leave before I give Dimitri a real stake so he can finish his job," she said, kneeling down beside him and picking up one of the wooden scraps, her voice calm and collected.

He looked at her in defiance for a few seconds before getting up and walking away, leaving behind a trail of blood. "Have fun trying to get out of here, bitch," he barked over his shoulder at her, banging the door as he left.

For someone who bragged about being perfect for Rose, he sure as hell gave up easily.

"Fucking men," she said, turning to me and walking in my direction. She didn't look me in the eyes as she helped me up and sat me down on a small chair by the fridge, leaving for the bathroom and coming back a few seconds later with a first-aid kit in hands.

"Be still," she ordered as she started cleaning the cuts in my face. I obeyed, trying not to wince from pain as she treated my wounds without seeming to care enough to be gentle.

Seconds became minutes as she threw more and more bloody wipes at the trash can by the kitchen sink. Neither of us spoke as her hands roamed my body, disinfecting every wound left by Nathan, her focus never shifting from the task in hand. I tried not to dwell on the fact that, if it wasn't for her timing, I'd probably be dead by now. My pride was the place where I was hurting the most right now, and by not being gentle, she helped me a little with that.

"You've stored a first-aid kit in here? How thoughtful," I said after a while, unable to take her silence anymore. If the only way to get a reaction out of her was starting a fight, then so be it. I'd take my chances.

She stopped her ministrations and just exhaled loudly, finally looking at me in the eyes.

"All those training sessions," she started, "telling me about how I needed to control myself, and you almost fucking die over a dick measurement contest."

"You have a way of bringing out the worst in me," I shrugged.

"You're such a hypocrite", she laughed humorlessly. "Over and over again you contradict yourself. Do you have any idea how much I gave up to be just like you? I thought you understood what it meant to be a guardian, and yet here you are. You made yourself look unbeatable, and yet here you are. And you blame _me_ for that? You say _I_ 'bring out the worst in you'? I once wanted you by my side because I had never seen you bent. Now you're just fucking broken."

Before I could come up with an answer she took my broken nose between her fingers and, without any previous warning, snapped it back into place. I let out an agonized scream as tears poured out of my eyes, blurring my vision. She didn't let me recover. Before I could even blink the tears away or take an excruciating inhale, she was in my lap caressing my throat. The quick movement blindsided me so I almost jumped as I heard her murmuring in my ear, but soon enough surprise gave away to longing at the possibility of being bitten.

"Your blood is mine, Dimitri," she said, her breath fanning my skin and making every nerve in my body feel like an uncapped handwire. "I'm the only one who gets to taste it, to drop it, to waste it. It's about time you recognize that."

And then, just like that, she left. No bite, no promises. Just me, halfway to nowhere.

* * *

 ** _A.N.:_** It took me nine months to give birth to this little monster. As always, I hope it was worth the wait.

This time, the songs are Bitter and Sick by The One Two and Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana.


End file.
